Malin Fundinul
by CookandBaker
Summary: Malin Fundinul, born in the year 2792 and 20 years younger than Dwalin, moves to Erebor from her foster home in the Iron Hills. There, she reunites with her brothers and makes some new friends, whilst battling memories of the past. The future is at first unclear to her, but soon begins to take an unexpected shape. Rated T for possible violence, gore and trauma.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm just trying out something here and having a go at more "classic" fanfic, so please bear with me :) This is just practice, so I don't know how long this fiction will last and how it will end. As for my other hobbit-y fanfic, well, that's on its way. I'm just trying to figure out how not to be tedious with regards to cookery descriptions... lol! Again, I'm not quite happy with how the narrative is turning, I feel my most acceptable piece of fanfiction is still the Gimli one-shot ("The Pigeon Came").

* * *

**Chapter 1: A New Beginning**

Malin cursed in Khuzdul under her breath. The wind howled incessantly and the rain had been pouring for several days, ever since they had left the Iron Hills, in fact. The road ahead (both figuratively and literally) looked uninviting. At this particular point in Malin's life, the world was cold and uninviting.

The road to Erebor from the Iron Hills was undoubtedly long and hard. That the spring rains were falling made it far worse, as the roads were muddy. Malin hated wearing stiff male breeches and riding a fidgety pony for hours on end. It was wet and cold, and she hated the bitter cold. She shivered and growled, but her traveling companions were dwarves from the Iron Hills whom she did not know well, who were moving to the Lonely Mountain, and they did not know her, notice her, or bother about her much.

Malin was in a foul mood.

"Lonely it is called and lonely it shall be," she muttered, "My brothers just _had_ to send for me, before it is even habitable."

She didn't think often of her two brothers. Other than some rare gift, missive or piece of news from visitors, she had not heard from them or seen them since the Battle of Azanulbizar. Often, she quite forget the fact that she had two brothers; she mostly thought of herself as alone in the world except for Lord Dain, his family, and her close friends in the Iron Hills. Malin assumed for many years that her brothers had long abandoned her and forgotten of her. She was twenty years younger than Dwalin, thirty-one years younger than Balin, far too young to be of any consequence to them.

It was so terribly unexpected that after so many years, her brothers Balin and Dwalin should summon her to Erebor through a message from Dain as he triumphantly returned from the Battle of the Five Armies to resume his duties as Lord of the Iron Hills. Malin remembered well the mass excitement when Lord Dain and his company rode into the city's entrance, and then the moment that he ran down to embrace his family triumphantly. Malin had stood by, smiling at the good news of the army's safe return. Then Lord Dain had turned to her and said,

"Malin, your brothers summon you to move to Erebor with the company that shall go from here in a month."

Her countenance grew dark, but she said nothing, merely nodding and bowing. It was unusual for dwarrowdams to travel and be uprooted, so she realized immediately that she would, in all likelihood, never see the Iron Hills again.

Dain's wife, Dlysi, Malin's close companion, nearly went into mourning at the new. Dlisyi and Malin clung miserably to each other until the last moments when she had to break away and leave, trying not to think about what she was leaving behind less she break down completely. Dain's sister had done the same, as did all her dear bosom friends in the Iron Hills. They as a group were inconsolable at the parting, and very hurt as well, for bonds of friendship between dwarves, especially female dwarves who are overwhelmingly outnumbered, are deeply treasured.

Malin had promised to write to them of Erebor. She honestly had no idea what to think of it (having been born in exile) except that, in her opinion, the quest to reclaim the "derelict, dragon-polluted" mountain had been hopeless and foolish, and had succeeded only by sheer luck and the help of Dain.

When Fundin, father of Malin and her brothers, died at Azanulbizar, she was only seven years old. Her mother had died when she was born from an infection contracted during childhood, as was because because they, like the other Erebor exiles, lived in poor conditions as they wandered over the plains of Arda.

Balin and Dwalin, having returned fresh from the ferocious battle, were left with the care of a tiny wee dwarrowdam to whom they had to break the news that Father was dead.

Malin had long tried to block out the memories of those dark days, but she could never forget screaming and clinging to Balin in agony, shock and protest for days, until Balin and Dwalin made up their minds. Upon the offer of Dain and his mother, she was sent with the troops returning to Iron Hills to be raised there. Balin was convinced he had made the right decision not to make her suffer the deprivations of exile - she would grow up without want. Besides, he and Dwalin knew nothing of raising a dwarrowdam, let alone protecting one.

Malin only remembered Dwalin dragging her away as she screamed and cried and clung to Balin. Dain's crippled uncle who now rode a pony took her into his arms and comforted her with exciting tales of the Iron Hills.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: An Awkward Reunion  
**

_Three weeks later..._

The company now approached Erebor, having made a last push to reach it several hours after the sun had set. It was alight and aglow, and very large. Malin was exhausted, and she could only remember some servants taking the "Missus Fundin" to her quarters. Balin and Dwalin were not there, and she wouldn't even know them if they had been. She collapsed in bed.

The next day, she stayed in her room until a servant came and told her to dress, for she was summoned to court that morning.

"Lady Malin", the guards announced to the court, "Daughter of Fundin."

She entered, dressed a lot better than she was in the journey, a veil draped around her neck (but not over her head and face) in the old ways of the Iron Mountain, her face bleak and dark and her eyes hazy.

"Lady Malin daughter of Fundin, at your service." she bowed before the court and the King.

Balin approached her,

"Sister."

_What a reunion, _Malin thought ironically. _In front of the whole court. _

_S_he bowed before him, and addressed him respectfully as "Lord Balin, my lord."

He was her guardian, her authority, and she took care for be respectful, even if she was resentfully distant.

He stepped forward embraced kindly and gave her a hug, which surprised her and made her stiffen.

"We have a lot to catch up on after you recover from your travel " he said wistfully and a little regretfully. He paused, and said, "Life will be prosperous here and we can live as family like we could not before."

She smiled back tentatively and said "Yes, my lord."

Dwalin folded his arms and stalked up to her, right behind Balin. He frowned and bowed.

Everything was ceremonial between them, but he was sizing her up, curious to know what a sister of his would look like, for he scarcely remembered the little child from... was it eighty years before?

She was shorter than Balin, but her hair was a clear, greyless and dirty shade of brown like Dwalin's. Her beard was thick and full, her hair long and unbraided, just like Balin's except with a half of it up in a knot at the back. She was stern in visage, and two daggers hung from her belt. Other than that, she was completely unadorned and plain, a deliberate choice she had made to show her indifference to the wealth of gold and gems in Erebor as opposed to the very useful namesake of the Iron Hills.

Malin was wearing a very plain and loosely cut dark crimson gown in the same shade of Balin's. It was warm and thick, but matronly and not very flattering. A large maroon geometric pattern was woven into the cloth, making it resemble curtain fabric. Malin was nearing "middle age", and certainly looked every day of it.

No, his sister was not a beauty, Dwalin concluded, but at least she wore no tattoos, at least not any visible ones. She had Balin's eyes and nose and muscles, but Dwalin's hair. Her hair was long and thick and very neat.

Malin thought Balin looked similar to her memories of him, except a lot older and _whiter. _Dwalin, she noticed smugly, had lost his ridiculous shock of upstanding hair over the years, and was covered in tattoos. She tried to get a better look at them, to read them, but as the eyes of the court were on her, well, she didn't want to stare so obviously at her brother.

She looked around and took her surroundings in. Malin decided that she didn't think much of Erebor, or of the court. The King dismissed her with a passing glance and the princes were slightly in awe of her personage - they didn't even know _Dwalin _had a sister, and shuddered at the thought of it. The words "Dwalin" and "sister" didn't quite _go. _

Balin was only thinking of how much she resembled their mother, the mother she had never met.

As for Dis, who sat beside the throne, she briefly appraised this dwarrowdamwho looked old as herself. _How boring. _Dis nodded indifferently at Malin, and Malin inclined her head in a sort of bow.

_I remember the frightened little girl, _thought Dis. _My, she could really howl. She cried louder than I did after the Battle. What happened to her all this time? _

_We are not to be friends, then. _Malin thought grumpily. Dis was the only woman in Erebor so far, but they didn't really get much of a connection. Some of the other dwarves though, looked more likable. Malin was abhorrent to the idea that Dis should take Dlysi's place in her friendship. Malin was unconsciously determined to dislike everything about Erebor.

Gloin saw her across the courtroom and noticed that she looked glum, and in a rare fit of sympathetic awareness, realized she probably didn't like being Erebor.

_She's so much like our aunt, _he whispered to Oin, who didn't catch a word, _You can see the family resemblance. _

Malin stood by the side and ignored most of the proceedings around her. Behind her, a Blue Mountain dwarf with elaborately styled hair was trying to sneak past behind her to Dwalin, and she had keen senses and noticed it.

_What a stealth! He would make a good burglar. _

She continued her silent observations of various characters in the courtroom (Malin was very good at deductions) and amused herself quietly until the midday meal was announced, and Balin took her by the arm to the dining hall.

Balin and Dwalin were trying to make small talk as she sat with them at the table, but Malin was content to stare at her food and reply them softly and briefly.

Gloin noticed the awkwardness between the three and sat down opposite Malin, and smiling widely, asked what she thought of Erebor and how easy was it to settle down, as a woman. His wife was due to arrive very soon, he said.

Malin had looked in surprise when he had introduced himself as "Gloin, son of Groin". So a cousin then, like her cousin Lord Dain. She decided that she could identify some family, and they had a rather pleasant conversation. Oin was next to Gloin, and he couldn't pick up everything that was being said, but well, they were very friendly and kind and told her what she most wanted to know about Erebor. Malin tried hard to remember them, and did manage to conjure up a picture of two stout cousins, one brown-haired and one with very red hair.

Gloin was eager for Malin to meet his wife Ghiza who was on her way to Erebor, and told most interesting things about trade in the Blue Mountains. Malin didn't say much, but the conversation flowed a lot more easily becaused she realized Gloin had a sharp and quick mind for business, like herself.

Balin and Dwalin felt relieved that they could quietly eat whilst Malin listened to Gloin launch into garrulous description of his son Gimli, having been reminded of life in the Blue Mountains.

_What a loving father, _Malin thought of Gloin. _His son is Mahal-blessed. _

* * *

After the meal, Balin got up,

"Dwalin's free today, I believe" he said to Malin, "But I have to sit in the King's council. I was thinking of taking you around Erebor..."

He looked expectantly at Dwalin, so Dwalin swallowed, not looking up from his plate, and said,

"T'would be m'pleasure."

So he left his meal, took Malin by the arm and they trotted around Erebor together. The routes Dwalin took were quite quiet. He said nothing much, but did ask after her needs when he returned her to her quarters.

"Thank you, " she replied, "But I have no needs. Clothes I have, and food is provided, so I shall just take a few weeks to accustomed myself to living in this mountain before trying to find an occupation."

"That is good, sister," said Dwalin, and with that he was gone.

She shut the door and decided to take a nap.

* * *

_Author's Note: Thanks to all of you guys for your favs and follows. And BoryBorys for the review! Lemme know if you guys have feedback or suggestions. I think Malin has a lot of underlying issues, which make her so grumpy and emotionally reserved most of the time, as you can read in this chapter. The Fundinuls have a long life span (Dwalin lives up to 340 years, I believe) so Malin, though not very young, definitely has not actually become an old maid, though in this chapter, she behaves and dresses like she's long past the prime of her life*. On the whole, I'm going to write her as quite heavily invested in and contented with female bromances, just like most characters in Tolkien's world._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Memories Over Dinner

Before dinner, Balin appeared at Malin's door with some gifts and she invited him in. Balin presented her with two truly beautiful adornments - a ruby bracelet and a sapphire ring. She thanked him happily and put on the sapphire ring which would match her blue velvet dinner dress. They spoke a little and then he observed her prepare for dinner by fixing herself up a little.

Malin lingered before the vanity as she set her hair completely in a solid twist of a bun - no beads, no braids - that meant she was unattached and never had been. The sons (and daughter) of Fundin wore no braids, despite their status and lineage.

"Perhaps we ought to start wearing our family regalia, "said Balin, "I think it was a red jasper bead with a crest, and a kind of kinky twist of a braid on both sides of the forehead."

"I remember father's braids, " said Malin, "But I do not know what mother wore."

"Oh, the same as father, I believe."

Balin was screwing up his brow trying to recall exactly _how _his father did his braids and what he looked like. It was _so _long ago, after all.

Malin said presently, "Is it time we left for supper?"

Balin stopped his revelry and realized that it was indeed time. He looked at Malin and started to get up to escort her. He stopped short, however, when he saw what she looked like.

Again very plain. A shapeless dark blue velvet dress that reached the floor, a single knot of hair at the back of her head, a heavy black veil draped over her neck... surely this is not how women dress for dinner? The sapphire ring, an old and ornate piece, stood out and gleamed unexpectedly on the middle finger of her right hand, symbolizing a family ring. Malin had put it on immediately as a way of thanking Balin - she did not yet know what to think of the gifts.

Balin reproached himself for his scrutiny. _Surely I of all people do not know what adornments women wear. It is probably the fashion of the Iron Hills._

Balin tried to make small talk on the way to dinner.

"Dwalin and I lived a simple life in the Blue Mountains, he did quite a lot of military work and I administrative. We... um... never had any _attachments._"

Malin's face was indifferent and unreadable as always. She didn't exactly scowl, but her face was "dark" and placid.

"Neither did I, " Malin said readily, "But I _had_ many dear friends in the Iron Hills."

"Goodness, " thought Balin, "She sounds so _old._"

The dining room was full, but Dwalin had saved them two places and he was already stuffing his face full of food. Malin was hungry, so she sat down and ate heartily. Gloin and Oin were far away this time, so she did not have much to speak to, of, or about. In fact, there were few women in the room other than the Princess Dis, who sat at the head table with the other royals.

"Balin, " said the King as he approached them, the room shifting and people scuttling out of his way, "You must dine with us tomorrow."

"Aye, Thorin," replied Balin, and he stopped eating for awhile to converse with the king on some political issue.

Malin only noticed her food, and was slightly shocked at the familiarity between the king and her brother. The king and his family, including the king, were distant relatives. Was Balin twentieth in line to the throne? _Oh yes, sixth in line. _

Malin remembered nothing of the royal family from her childhood, she thought, thinking back.

_Oh, _she suddenly remembered, _Frerin. _

The prince Frerin was the only person outside besides her own family that she remembered vividly from her first seven years of life. She had almost forgotten of him, but now the memories flooded back.

_He spent a lot of time with us. _Malin remembered him as Dwalin's companion and friend, who spent his lonely evenings with them in their lodgings because the rest of his family was busy planning for war and ruling the people. Dwalin of course could remember how lonely and left-out Frerin was and felt, how Frerin was really a mischief-maker and a merry soul, who tried to keep everyone's spirits up when war was being being and anticipated for.

_One day Cousin Frerin was sitting in front of the fireplace, waiting for Dwalin. He talked to me, and told me jokes and stories, but his face looked sad and there were tears in his eyes. _

Yes, Malin remembered him, thin and not very tall, but with dark hair and eyes. One of her big brother-figures. She was shocked when he didn't come back from Azanulbizar. Little did Malin know that that night, Frerin had been yelled at by Thorin for being an immature young weakling, for not being concerned with the upcoming war. Frerin then had stormed off to look for Dwalin's company.

"Why aren't you at home with your kin?" Malin had asked cheekily.

Frerin looked away and said sadly, ''They're busy, and Thorin is cross with me again."

Malin changed the subject quickly, realizing he was hurt.

"Can you tell me another story?"

"Why should I?" asked Frerin teasingly,

"Because you can tell stories. Dwalin can't. Father doesn't, and Balin's stories are all to do with history lessons," Malin said, and pestered Frerin, "Please, please, please..."

_The story of the squirrel and the rabbit. I still remember it. _

Malin shut her eyes and returned to the present, but they were still glazed over. She looked up and saw Thorin walking away.

_He looks nothing like Frerin. _

Malin looked at Dis. _Neither does she. At least not much, _Malin conceded.

But her eye fell on Kili. _Strange that I didn't notice the resemblance at first. He's a splitting image... _

Even Malin's hazy and long-suppressed memories still retained a relatively clear picture of Frerin and Dwalin sparring whilst she watched from the window.

_"_The little pest is locked inside and won't get in our way,_" _Dwalin had said gruffly, and began his attack before Frerin could reply, "I don't know what Mahal was thinking when he gifted me with a sister."

_Dwalin made me stay inside so I wouldn't get hurt, so he could spar. _

Malin glanced at Dwalin and giggled to herself. _Half his hair is gone. _

Balin saw Malin smile and asked, "Are you enjoying the food?"

"It is plenteous and well-made," she said, "Hearty, as dwarves enjoy it."

"Ah, " Balin said, "That is the work of our chef, Bombur. He's over there, the large dwarf with the light ginger hair."

Malin glanced where Balin nodded, at an extremely rotund dwarf.

"His wife Iga is an even better cook," Balin continued, "And she is arriving in about a month with Ghiza, Gloin's wife."

"I look forward to meeting them," Malin replied.

"Are you any good as a cook?" asked Dwalin, joining the conversation.

Malin laughed, "Not in twenty years have I set food in the kitchen... but I did make some decent meals in my time. I got into business dealings and had no time for cookery."

Supper ended and Malin retired. The next few days were going to be relatively uneventful as she planned to spend most of the time in her room getting unpacked and trying her best to be polite (and not grumpy).

Oh, but the Fundinuls were to dine at the royal table tomorrow.

"_Drat,_" thought Malin. Mealtimes were really awkward, because Malin wasn't much of a talker, and from the looks of it, Dis really was. From across the hall, Malin should hear her lecturing her sons without end.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Getting to Know You

Sitting with the royals at dinner was as bad as Malin had expected. She was tongue-tied and terrified, and dared not look up from her plate, her hands shivering. Bad feelings and memories rang over her, and she tried not to let the tears come out.

_I miss Dlysi so much, _Malin thought, and then felt even worse when she realized that _Dlysi misses me even more. _

Of course they were nice, and Balin was trying to get her and Dis to be friends, but Malin was awkward. Words couldn't come off her tongue and she choked when Dis tried to ask her anything. Dis sighed and continued trying. The menfolk of course were embroiled in some heated discussion about Mirkwood elves, the princes were busy trying to catch the attention at a sweet dwarrowdam at the next table. That left two daughters of Durin facing each other.

Overall, it was a miserable dinner and Malin fled to her room as soon as it was over. Dis was trying very hard to be nice, for Balin and Dwalin's sake, but Malin was as stiff and grim as a rock.

She avoided Dis after that, and had half her meals in her rooms. But soon she got over her fears, and overcome with restlessness, started to quietly explore the mountain and its halls and corridors on her own.

* * *

"I'm worried about our sister," grumbled Dwalin as he and Balin shared a quick chat in the training arena.

"What is the matter with Malin?" Balin inquired, a little taken aback.

"Whenever I go to see her, she's either out or slipping out."

"I take it she's finding her way around Erebor very well?"

"She knows every path and staircase better than I do."

"What's the problem then?"

"Where is she? Where is she going to, all these hours? It can't be good!" Dwalin blurted out.

Balin smiled and shook his head, saying "From what I gather she's very good with directions. She won't get lost in a hurry. Most likely she's found something she likes to do."

That was certainly true. Malin was enjoying her expeditions around Erebor, keeping herself very safe and sure as she learned all the routes. She had tried going to the kitchens, but only a small portion had been restored, and it was small and very busy, so she left to find something else to do.

Then Malin ventured into an uninhabited section of Erebor, where the large and small ballrooms were, grand bright rooms with polished floors and walls that shone and reflected light, engraved with jewels. It was gorgeous. A little way off, she had found a smaller ballroom, one formerly used to teach dance to courtiers.

Unknown to anyone else, she began to venture to the ballroom very often to dance. It had been twenty years since she had last danced, and now she spun across the floor, her stiff muscles becoming light and flexible like they once were.

* * *

One day, the door creaked open and she spun, embarrassed.

Fili and Kili were peering in. With round eyes they had been watching her dance, so unlike her usual self they did not recognize her.

Malin's normally bound hair was loose and flying, her curls bouncy and light and all over the place. She wore a shorter dress belted in at the waist that twirled in the air as she danced.

Up into the air she had sprung, and then twirled _four _times on her left foot, before springing to the right and (almost) flying diagonally across the hall, her feet in a whirlwind of twists and steps and leaps. She looked twenty years younger... _twenty years. _

The princes had seen quite a bit of her dancing. They were quite in awe.

_"Fili,and Kili at your service"_ she heard distantly, the pounding of her heart blurring out most of the sound.

She stopped breathleslly and bowed, standing foolishly in the middle of the dance floor. They entered the room together sheepishly, then Fili's mouth dropped open.

_"... daughter of Fundin?" _she heard him sputter in disbelief.

"Forgive me, your majesties," and she dropped to a low bow, hands clasped behind her back, breathing heavily from exhaustion.

"I should leave..." she began to make her exit, careful not to turn her back to the royals as protocol demanded.

"Wait, " Kili stepped forward, "Please."

"Perhaps..." began Fili nervously,

"Could you teach us to dance?" Kili was the daring one and he blurted out their request.

The gracefulness and poise was gone from Malin. She was immediately abashed, and she tripped over her own shoes and fell on her back.

They rushed to her, but she dazedly sat up after a moment, gritting her teeth at the temporary immobilizing pain in her back.

Kili was in front of her, but she was knocked out and said dazedly, in shock...

"Frerin!"

Malin gasped, then rubbed her eyes, "Oh, Prince Kili."

"You knew Uncle Frerin?"

"The Prince spent a lot of time with my brother Dwalin," she tried to get up as she said,

"Perhaps we ought to escort the Lady Malin to the infirmary?"

"No!" Malin gasped, "I am alright, just a little dazed."

She paused, "Besides, wouldn't your majesties want to learn some dancing?"

They both looked at each other and smiled back delightedly at her.

"We came here to practice."

"Then show me what you can do," she said, folding her arms.

"The problem is, " Kili said, "Uncle thinks we know how to dance, and we have to lead the dancing on Durin's Day."

"Its a huge celebration," sighed Fili, "It's been one year after we reclaimed Erebor, so its pretty huge, the event."

"Did you not learn dancing at princes?"

"Well, " began Fili, "Uncle sent us to a dancing master when we were lads..."

"But she was old and forgetful, " finished Kili, "And we skipped almost all the classes to go fishing, or hunting, was it?"

"Then we shall begin at the beginning," laughed Malin.

* * *

_Three hours later... _

Kili's feet were numb as he held on to Fili. They stumbled towards their quarters - it was a long way off still.

"My feet," Kili moaned.

"Stop dragging me down!" Fili protested, "I'm just as tired as you!"

Kili decided to stop walking, and he collapsed to his knees right there in the corridor.

"You're a weak child!" scoffed Fili, who was very tempted to give in himself.

Just then, Dis came walking by.

"Boys!"

Immediately Kili sprung up.

"What are you doing in these quarters?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just walking back to our rooms..."

"Where have you been?"

They looked foolishly down at the ground.

"Well?"

"Practicing our dancing." Fili said recklessly.

"And we're exhausted," moaned Kili.

"Weaklings!" Dis scorned them, "You can conquer Erebor and walk all the way here from the Blue Mountains, but one afternoon of _dancing_ and you're beaten down?"

She stopped and laughed, putting her hands on her hips,

"All the dwarrowdams are going to laugh at the both of you at Durin's Day. One hour into the dancing and you'll both have fainted!"

With that she turned and left them there, chuckling and guffawing loudly

"A hot bath," Kili moaned, "Just what I need."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: More dancing Malin, and more Dis, plus a special arrival. I'm quite free and easy with the plot and write whatever comes to mind that seems interesting. Lemme know who and what you guys want to read more of! Thanks to everyone for the favorites and follows, and to BorysBorys for taking to time to post helpful reviews! (Reviews and thoughts are greatly coveted!)

**Chapter 5: Dancing Dwarrowdams **

Dis laughed and made her way to the dance room herself. She wanted to see if she could still dance her favorite jig that her dear late husband had danced with her back in the Blue Mountains.

She bumped into a dwarrowdam, and taking a second look, for there were not many dwarrowdams in the Lonely Mountain. .

"I'm sorry... Dis daughter of Thrain at your service... do I know you?"

Malin stared at her.

"Malin daughter of Fundin, at yours."

Dis started. Was this disheveled creature the "prim and prude" Malin? Indeed, with curls flying in the air and rosy cheeks...

"Well, um.. excuse me." said Dis.

Malin bowed as Dis turned and then Malin asked,

"If..." she stuttered, being nervous around royalty, "I.. m..may ask.. milady... my princess... where are you going?"

"Oh, just to take a walk," Dis said nonchalantly.

"Do you know this part of the mountain?" Malin asked boldly, then quickly bowed her head and said softly, "That is, if I may say, your majesty...laduship... do you know your way? May I be of any assistance?"

As soon as it came out of her mouth Malin knew it was a stupid question - Dis had grown up here, after all.

The truth was, Dis wasn't sure exactly where the ballroom was, only that it was on this side of the mountain.

"My memories of this mountain are distant," Dis confessed, "Could you show me around?"

"At your service, your majesty," Malin began, then jumped in surprise when Dis took her pleasantly by the arm and motioned for her to lead the way.

* * *

_Ten minutes later... _

"And so, your majesty, the stairwell here leads to the antechambers, and straight ahead are the ballrooms." Malin finished.

"Ah, I see.." Dis said. Truth to be told, the journey had been long and confusing, and now that she was here, she didn't quite know what to do. It would seem foolish to dance...

But Malin had forgotten all her inhibitions, and she was eagerly bringing Dis through one of the doors to the Great Ballroom, a feast to the eyes of bronze, gold, silver and other gems.

"Legend has it that this room often cast a spell on dwarves that made them dance for hours on end, as if by magic," laughed Malin, "But I believe the wine of Mirkwood was more to blame."

Malin continued to chatter on about dances.

Dis took one look around, and memories started flooding back, of good times and lavish balls she had witnessed as a child. She started humming an old tune.

Malin was surprised, "Do you know that Broadbeam Jig?"

"Very well, " said Dis, "It was a great favorite of the King's - King Thror's."

Then, with an air of comedy, Malin bowed like a male and said, "May I have this dance, milady?"

"My pleasure!" Dis eagerly joined in.

Together they hummed the song and spun around the room in glee. Then they heard the door creak and stopped, embarrassed (as any matrons would be, being caught giggling and dancing like young maidens).

It was Gloin and his arms were linked with that of a beautiful, absolutely stunning, dwarrowdam with red hair. She was dressed in traveling clothes, but had such a bright, radiant face with the most handsome features. Malin gasped and felt that she could gaze at those eyes... forever.

"My this part of Erebor is crowded today," muttered Malin, to herself,"Usually its as quiet as a tomb."

Gloin coughed, "I was just showing Ghiza around. She had wanted to see the East Quarter of which my mother spoke so much of..."

Gloin then began to make introductions between the ladies. Immediately after the bowing and courtesy was over, Ghiza burst out, "Oh, the Broadbeam jig! I haven't heard it in years!"

"Is it your favourite dance, too?" Dis asked,

"No, " Gloin said, and they looked at each other and blushed, "Her favorite is The Tossing of Axes!"

Ghiza blushed and looked at the floor. Dis and Malin exchanged knowing glances - it was a courting dance.

"Do dance it now," said Malin, "It would be a waste to walk all the way here and not dance a little!"

"Yes, " begged Dis,

Gloin grabbed Ghiza before she could protest, and leaped to the center of the room. Looking in each others eyes, they pranced clockwise, and anti-clockwise, and clapped their hands, stomping their feet and humming the tune, linked in each others' arms. The dance resembled the spinning of twin axes.

_It is so beautiful. _Malin was admiring the two of them, obviously in love and so happy to be joyfully reunited after such a long separation.

When the dance ended, the little merry gathering went back to their rooms to freshen up for supper.

Malin decided to skip supper and have some bread and cheese in her room, the day's activities taking a toll on her as her bones and joints ached. She had a warm, slow, luxuriating bath and afterwards rubbed her feet with oil.

Dis looked around for Malin at dinner, but she wasn't there. She was disappointed, having been rather lonely without many friends to talk to or much to be busy with. Thankfully, the women from the Blue Mountains had arrived and she would have more dwarrowdams, especially her old friends, to be with.

* * *

When Malin was exhausted, she had bad dreams. And tonight, the worst of them returned.

_Clash! The silverware dropped. _

Voices rang, accusations were flung at her.

_This sorceress, this witch! You're a poisoner! A traitor! You should be banished, hanged! _

Malin awoke, shivering and miserable. She sobbed into pillow and clutched her hair desperately, trying to forget, trying to block out those memories from _twenty years ago._

Sometimes, it was very difficult to be left alone with the silence, having nothing with which to shut out unwanted memories.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5: Dwarrowdam Gossip**

"Why am I blushing?" Malin reproached herself when she knocked on the door of Ghiza's quarter. Ghiza had invited her to visit anytime.

The door swung open and Ghiza escorted her in with a flurry of excited conversation.

"_How _are you, cousin Malin? Oh, you must excuse the untidiness of our quarters. Gloin has been _quite _alone for these months and I have _so _much to do to clean it up..."

Malin managed to nod and smile. She hardly heard what Ghiza was saying, for her vivid eyes were so distracting. Ghiza must have broken many, many hearts back when she was young.

Malin, remebering Dis's beauty, thought, _Do all women have dazzling eyes except for me? _

Ghiza showed her to a comfortable chair, which was at the moment covered with cools of glittering thread and skeins. Ghiza, in one quick move, swept the yarn carelessly to the floor.

"Sorry about that. I'm a weaver, and the journey here drove me nuts because of the scenery. So many beautiful sunsets, forests, mountains, I could barely take it all in. I couldn't wait to get unpacked before unleashing some weaving inspiration."

"You have a loom?" Malin asked,

"Yes, we had a large one in Ered Luin which I took apart and carried here myself - its not heavy," said Ghiza, rushing to pour some tea.

"May I see some of your weaving? I'm curious, because I never learned the craft myself but I do know a thing or two from overseeing trade..."

Ghiza came with some tea, and then picked up one of the packs on the floor which she unrolled.

Malin gasped at the weaving samples Ghiza took out. She exclaimed in Khuzdul, "Mahal! Those are beautiful!"

Malin picked up some of them from where they had fallen on the floor. She bit her lip as she fingered the brightly woven design and the fine material, wool interlaced with silver thread.

"And how much you would you charge for a full weave of this?"

"Oh, back in the Blue Mountains about 16 gold pieces."

"In the Iron Hills," Malin said, "I would have paid the weave double that amount, and made a pretty profit on it too if I resold it."

Ghiza gasped and blushed, pleased that Malin liked her work.

"And," Malin continued, "No doubt when trade here is reestablished, the craft of Erebor would be greatly prized. The prices of the Blue Mountains would not compare to the value of goods from Erebor. My brother Balin wishes greatly to ensure that trade here flourishes under the hand of the skilled."

"Oh," said Ghiza, in surprise.

"What's that, Ghiza?" asked Gloin, entering from another room wearing an embroided casual robe.

Gloin turned to pour himself a cup of tea, and noticed Malin,

"Oh, " he said pleasantly, "Cousin Malin! Admiring Ghiza's weaves, I see. I always told her the only thing that sparkles less than her fabric is her eyes."

"Indeed, Cousin Gloin, " Malin said, "You have expressed it as I would have precisely."

Ghiza blushed and sipped her tea.

"Did shee weave your robe?" Malin asked,

"What? This? Yes, many years ago. She also wove me a courting gift but it must have shrunk over the years..." Gloin rattled on,

"My cloth does not shrink, Gloin, " Ghiza teased him, "It is you who have broadened."

"Well, you have me there," Gloin pretended to look sad.

"Oh, you donkey!" Ghiza exclaimed, "Don't pretend. I dare say Gimli is large enough to wear it, though."

"I have not seen your son much at meals," Malin said thoughtfully,

"Oh, " Gloin's booming laugh rang, "He's always in the training grounds. Your brother Dwalin missed him greatly and can't wait to get started again,"

"Gimli feels much the same," Ghiza added,

"If you excuse me, ladies," Gloin said, "I promised to watch Gimli spar with Dwalin today... I can't wait for my boy to massacre that old bare-headed..."

"Gloin!" Ghiza interrupted reproachfully, that said in a silvery voice, "You best get going and leave us ladies to our gossip."

Gloin disappeared out of the door with a bow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Dwarrowdams and Their Problems**

Malin hurried down the corridor. This was not a part of Erebor she frequented, for she rarely had reason to venture to the infirmary. She was on her way to visit some treasure stores with Balin, who had invited her to come help him and Gloin with the restoration and appraisal.

She caught sight to two dwarrowdams, Elekh, a maiden from the Blue Mountains, a healer, with whom she was little acquainted, and another, even younger maid who wore a heavy black cloak. They were speaking in hushed voices in the passageway and the Malin thought one of them must be crying.

Suddenly, they caught sight of Malin and turned away in fear, not before Malin caught sight of the other maiden pulling the cloak over her protruding belly.

Malin gasped in shock.

"Wait!" she called after them as they tried to walk away discretely, "Elekh?"

She ran up to them and saw tears in the other dwarrowdam's eyes.

"Malin, daughter of Fundin from the Iron Hills at your service," she said quickly, "Do you need any assistance?"

"No, we are fine," said Elekh, "Elekh, daughter of Alakh, as yours."

They tried to turn away, but the other dwarrowdam sudenly gasped, grabbed her belly and fainted.

So Malin helped Elekh carry the her to her quarters. It was quite a distance, but thankfully the corridors were quiet.

"Please, " Elekh said, "She is in great distress. You must not tell anyone!"

"Who is she?"

"Lallek, daughter of Dallek," Elekh said, "My cousin. Her father died on the journey here with us, and she was left alone. She was weak throughout the journey and now I know why. She hid it so well, until now, of course, when it cannot be hidden."

"How came she by this condition?" Malin asked, "If I am to be sworn to secrecy I must know why."

"She was secretly married," sighed Elekh, "To a dwarf her father did not approve of. I know not who. He is of the sort who lurks in the shadows, I suppose."

Lallek had come to. She awoke and caught sight of Malin, grabbing Malin's hands that were dabbing Lallek's forehead,

"Please, you must not tell! I will be disgraced forever!"

"You should tell us who your husband is," Malin said,

"He is not my husband, " Lallek said weakly, "We were married, but he is not my husband anymore. I saw him leave Erebor with a woman but two nights ago, when we arrived in Erebor. I saw him in the shadows, taking her by the hand..."

"He must be told of his child," Malin said, "And he must be the honorable dwarf and return to you, or I will speak to the king to demand that he does so. No dwarf will stand by and see a woman "

"It was almost a full year," Lallek said despondently, "Since he left with the King's Company on the quest to reclaim this mountain. Surely he has forgotten of me."

"Did he truly love you? " Malin pressed, "I know dwarves, they burn with a love that will not die. They are jealous for what is theirs."

"I thought he loved me, " Lallek said, "But I have thought wrongly. He wrote nothing to me nor sent me any word."

"Speak no more in this way. Sleep now, child." Malin said, knowing that Lallek was working herself up into a frenzy, "It is not long before you are a mother."

When Malin left the room, she turned and said to Elekh, "Your friend is wearied by grief, by the journey and by the condition she is in. It is no wonder she is beyond reason. Try and find the name of her husband from her, and I will try to speak discretely with him."

"Thank you," Elekh grasped her hand, "I know nothing of these matters, only to judge her health. If I had known she was with child during the journey here, I would never have let her come just yet. Poor Lallek - Perhaps you can be the mother she never knew..."

"I never knew _my _mother," Malin said gruffly, turning to leave, "I will come by tomorrow after the mid-day meal."

_Dwarrowdams and their problems, _Malin thought, and sighed. _Just like old times. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Gold and More Gold**

Malin nearly forgot about Elekh and Lallek when she entered _the _treasury. It quite took her breath away.

_No, _she corrected herself. _This is ONE of the treasuries, and a smaller one at that. _

A mountain of gold - and Balin needed her to help him painstakingly evaluate and reevaluate the gold, in order to assess its value and compile a detailed inventory. This was a matter that required delicate trust, and so, the King willed that only his closest subjects, those in who were part of his company, be involved in the work. Due to Balin's age, Thorin had consented to Malin assisting him, her being his charge and sister.

Several guards, including Dwalin, followed them as a safeguard, and Gloin would arrive later with another old and trustworthy goldsmith from the Blue Mountains to double-check their completed work.

"These are some very random collections of the gold scattered around the mountains," explained Balin, "We cleared the living quarters and brought all the valuables here to be counted amongst the stock. There are probably quite a few historical pieces and personal pieces here as well. If you see anything that has a family crest on it, any of you, please put it in that wheelbarrow over that. Anything that is of historical value must be consigned to that chest."

Dwalin folded his arms and sat in a corner whilst Malin bit pieces between her teeth and started sorting out a neat pile, making mental calculations. Balin was trying to pick out pieces that were of such historical value that surpassed their material ones - the helmet of Durin IV, the golden washbasin of Thror, etc.

Malin enjoyed doing this with Balin. They could work together, argue and discuss things of a business (and not personal) nature. Balin found that Malin had a quick, shrewd mind and was the perfect partner for him. He wouldn't be able to get far without her quick eye, that was for certain.

Dwalin was suspicious of the gold and what it had done to Thorin. Dwalin was bored, and leaned against the wall and wanted to close his eyes, but the eerie dragon-haunted gold closing in around him on all sides made him unable to relax. Besides, to sleep on duty would be disrespectful.

Malin and Balin were arguing if a jeweled sceptre was from Dain IV's or Gloin I's reign. Dwakb shifted his axe to the other shoulder and in doing so, knocked a piece pile of gold beside him a little. He tried to return it to its former position without Balin noticing, but only succeeded in causing a mini gold-avalanche to descend on him. Dwalin was now waist deep in gold. Balin did not seem to notice.

As Dwalin tried to swim away to "safety", he noticed some interesting trinkets, one of which bore the family crest of his uncle Groin's house. Dwalin actually was able to read and identify family symbols, so he soon had an armful of gold and jewelry sorted.

Several hours went by, and when work was finished, Dwalin, following Balin's instructions, wheeled the barrow of family pieces to the room where Ori was waiting to help identify, make an inventory of, and return the treasure to their rightful owners.

Several hours went by, and Ori was very intrigued and immersed in the task at hand. Dwalin was pacing by the door, suspicious of any sign of Nori, who might sneak by and pocket some of the valuables for himself (not that Nori lacked wealth in any way, nowadays, but Dwalin was suspicious of his habits).

"You don't have to stay, Mister Dwalin," Ori said, "Nori left on a trip and he won't be back for another three days."

"Even so," Dwalin countered, "He likely t'cause trouble. B'sides, the king said none of us are to be left alone with the gold."

"Aye, " said Ori.

Both fell silent. The gold-sickness was not something to be talked about.

"Hmm..." said Ori, holding up a fine gold chain strung with a curious mithril pendant, "What do you make of this?"

"Dunno," said Dwalin, "What does it say?"

"Line of Durin..." Ori referred to his notes, "The royal insignia. According to markings, this was made only a few months before the fall of Erebor! But theres also another family crest which I cannot recognize. Too serious and valuable to be for a courtship... maybe a betrothal or secret marriage."

"Maybe we should ask Thorin, " Dwalin eyed the thing curiously, "After we're done with the rest."

"I daren't," said Ori, "It was probably set him off on another three weeks of brooding and reliving tragic memories of "life before Smaug"."

"Watch yer tongue!" Dwalin wouldn't have any of Ori's matter-of-fact cheekiness, then added, "I'll take it to him and see. Maybe it belonged to him."

After a few hours, this lot had been sorted, marked, and deposited in a chest with a detailed inventory describing their owners' families.

Dwalin pocketed the piece and went where he knew he would run into Thorin.

"How's work today?" asked Thorin, "Did Balin make any progress?"

"Some valuables, some historical items, some family pieces." Dwalin said,

"See you at dinner, then," the King turned to go.

"Just a second, Thorin," Dwalin rushed to him, "Ori sorted out some of the personal treasures, y'know, those with family crests and so forth. He found this, which had the markings of the royal line of it. "

Thorin looked at it, and his eyes went wide.

"I know what it is..." he said slowly and calmly, but his was pale, "I've seen it before. "

Dwalin held it out to him and shrugged,

"Keep it them, if its yours..."

"It is."

Thorin took it from Dwalin and walked away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Ghosts **

She was alone, which was unusual. Life in Erebor was so quiet compared to home. At home, there wasn't a moment to be alone.

_No, _she thought. _Erebor is now my home. _

This balcony that overlooked the night sky was lonely, and she easily gave in to her undwarfish desire to see the stars once again. For years, she only known the mountains and their halls. Years could go by before she happened to catch a glimpse of the sky, and then, it did not interest her. What could be outside the mountains that could be so interesting? Dwarves like to go deep into the rock, not out in the green woods or under the night sky.

But the journey to Erebor had changed that. Her sharp eyes, the eyes of an artist, had been opened to beauty and color, not that of gems and jewels but of the beauty of the earth, of green trees and blooming flowers and blue skies. Now she thought often upon it, and desired to look upon it once again, which led her to this balcony.

Behind her she heard footsteps, and turning around, she saw the king.

"Oh, it's you." she said, and started to bow.

"Please, " said he, "Not like this. Not between us. Not ever between us, Ghiza."

Turning away, she said in a low voice,

"It was a long time ago. Things have changed."

"I wonder if they had not."

"The past is the past," she said with a note of finality in her voice,

"I wonder now what things would have been if things had worked out for us," he said, in a low, quiet voice.

Was that regret she heard?

"There's no point in speaking of my now, my king. " said Ghiza, "Things are best left the way they are."

Ghiza started to leave quickly,

"Wait, " he said, "Don't you feel like something's missing, being here in Erebor after all those long years?"

"You've been seeing her ghost again, haven't you?"

Thorin held out the gold pendant he'd been holding in his hand,

"This was hers."

"You gave it to her. Its yours now," Ghiza looked away, blurting out, "Keep it. Let us respect her memory. I've been seeing her ghost as well - memories. We had a hundred years to reconcile with the fact that she died in the flames - your betrothed, my sister. She was your One. I could never have replaced her. You were never in love with me. You were in love with the ghost of my sister. You wanted her so desperately you tried to find her within me. And I thought I loved you, but I never knew love until that winter that you went away and I met Gloin. _That_ is the truth."

"Aye." The king felt silent, but thought_, And though I have reclaimed Erebor, she is long gone. She... I can never have back.  
_

Finally Thorin said, "We couldn't have been together, anyway. It was her I wanted, and could never have had."

"Gloin must never know," her voice was shaking,"To you all the loyalty of his heart belongs..."

"And to you all his love."

"He must never even think there was anything between us."

"And he never will..."

"For there never was," Ghiza concluded, though in both of their minds they knew that it had been a possibility.

"Indeed. Good night."

And Ghiza was alone on that balcony. She did not linger long.


	10. Chapter 10

_Dear readers, to be honest, I found the last chapter to be wacky. And a sort of minor, background story-line. Today's story is just going to be plain weird. I don't know if it came out the way it should, but its going to be super-long and super-dramatic. I just had this idea (you know what fanfiction writing is like), you know, in both cases, so I just wrote it! Whatever it is, its really different. I don't know yet where this story is going or where it is going to end. Your suggestions and feedback are coveted! I do want to know the what readers think - is this story boring and should I continue it or not?  
_

**Chapter 10: The Duel with Dori**

Lallek had cried the whole night. Her ears were red and sore, her nose stuck and her ears ringing. Elekh was exhausted, but Lallek finally told her who her husband was,

"Dori," Elekh heard her say.

"Dori?" asked Elekh incredulously, "Who is that?"

Lallek did not reply. She nodded and burst into a bout of sobbing, clutching her belly. Elekh could only hold her, not knowing what to do.

Elekh heard a knock at the door a few hours later, and Malin was waiting outside. She told Malin what Lallek had said.

"I must see him at once!" Malin exclaimed angrily and impetuously. Malin stood by the door and loudly inquired of Lallek, "The son of Ghori is your husband?"

Lallek nodded and sniffed.

Malin folded her arms and said in a gruff voice, "I'll be taking care of him."

* * *

Malin was rushing from quarter to quarter. She went to the courtroom, but Dori was not there. She went to the library, but Ori had not seen him. She visited the quarters of the three brothers Ri, but he was not there. Finally she went to the training arena. Perhaps Gimli or Dwalin might have some ideas.

A large crowd of dwarves had gathered in the arena and it was impossible to get in. Standing outside, she asked found Gimli, who was sitting down on a bench polishing his axe.

"Some huge match today, huh?" Malin asked, "Have you seen Dori son of Ghori? Is he inside?"

Gimli looked up at her, startled. He looked down at his axe and mumbled sheepishly, "He's busy."

"Busy?" Malin snorted, "I have a matter of great importance to discuss with him. Please go to him and tell him I wish to speak with him."

Gimli thought for a second, "Okay, please come with me."

Gimli entered the arena with Malin following behind. He got through the crowds quicker than Malin, who was bewildered at the loud shouting and cheering.

"You again, Gimli?" a loud booming voice that rose above that of the crowds said, " Do you want to lose a second time?"

Then the voice paused to listen to Gimli before replying, "Someone wishes to speak with me? Then let him come and fight me!"

Malin heard that. She was furious. What kind of madness is going on?

"Sister!" a tired-looking Dwalin with a bruise on his nose caught sight of her and grabbed her, for he was near.

"I wish to speak to Dori. What is going on?"

"You wish to speak to Dori, now?" Dwalin was shocked, "Surely another time will do."

"It is a matter of great importance. It will not wait!" Malin's foot stamped on the ground and she growled impatiently.

Dwalin sighed, "He's on a rampage. Challenging everyone to face him in a fight. Apparently _someone, _" and here Dwalin glanced accusingly at Gloin, who was nursing an arm injury next to Dwalin, "thought it fit to call him a dwarrowdam."

"It's true!" protested Gloin, "You should see the way he drinks soup! Only a dwarrowdam would..."

Malin was already storming away from them. Dwalin chased after her as she made her way to the center of the arena.

"'Whatdaya think yer doing!" Dwalin exclaimed, "Ye'll git yerself kilt. Not even I can best Dori when he's gone mad. Don't think I haven't tried!"

Malin pushed her way to the front, just as Gimli was retreating into the crowd and Dori had just shoved another defeated dwarf off the arena.

"I wish to speak with you, Dori son of Ghori!" Malin roared impatiently.

"Speak?" Dori thundered, looking to see in confusion where the voice was coming from, "Forget about words? Speak to me a true dwarf would! Face me with your sword!"

Malin ran onto the center of the arena and the crowd fell silent. She picked up a heavy broadsword from the floor, and before Dori had turned around to see who was his next challenger, Malin was swinging the sword around in a whirlwind and rushing at him, determined to make him see reason.

Dwalin's eyes went wide. Then he shrugged and pushed some dwarves aside on the front row to get himself a seat. He sat down, folded his arms and hoped his sister would do him proud. After all, there was nothing he could do except sit down and watch a good fight. Balin would be ashamed of him for failing to protect his sister, he knew, but Dwalin quite forgot for a moment that Malin was a _dwarrowdam _and simply thought of her as another crazed dwarf fighter.

Malin certainly did nothing to contradict that image. Let us make no mistake - Malin was not the fastest or swiftest warrior, but she was a dwarrowdam on a mission to defend other dwarrowdams, or the honor of all dwarrowdams, for that matter. She also had in her arsenal a gamut of sneaky, back-handed tactics that would make Balin both swell with pride and blush with shame. This would get the raging Dori down in a matter of minutes.

Malin was playing a mind game - that was the only way she could win. Never having seen Dori fight before, as their swords clashed, she ducked and did some tricky maneuvers that managed to make Dori and twist on himself, falling to the side a little. He was strong, but a little lacking in balance, Malin discovered.

Then she faked an attack from behind, instead, coming full speed from in front. Dori glanced around in shock, and she managed to swung a blow that knocked the weapon out of his hand. He ducked, and she landed on top of him on the floor, her knees on his stomach. His arms flailed to the sides.

Instead of bringing the sword down to his neck, she leaned down and yelled furiously.

"I need to talk to you, NOW"

Then she crashed the blunt side of sword in his skull, just enough to disorientate him slightly.

* * *

_Fifteen minutes later, _

Dori came too with a pounding headache. The crowd was gone, having cheered for twenty minutes because Dori had been defeated by a dwarrowdam. Gloin's face could not be rid of a silly smirk, though Ghiza was going to be furious with him later for starting such madness. Malin had got Dwalin to carry Dori to the side, where she folded her arms and waited him for him to come to.

After twenty minutes, Malin had enough of waiting and she kicked Dori, yelling,

"Wake up!"

Dori groaned and opened his eyes,

"What happened?"

Malin say that the look of frenzy and insanity had passed, and now Dori's eyes were clear, if not wincing from the headache.

She whispered fiercely, "Tell me all about your secret wife!"

No one else heard. Malin shook his shoulders and demanded, "Answer me!"

Dori screwed up his face, "What?"

"Do not lie to me, " Malin pursed up her lips, "If you do not tell me the truth, the king will hear of this matter and you will be banished, or worse!"

Dori's face was one of utter confusion.

"I... never..."

"Your wife is in Erebor. She is with child and convinced you have abandoned her."

Dori sputtered, trying to get up, "There is no such thing! I never married!"

"It is you! She said it was you!" Malin screamed and started pummeling him with her fists, forgetting to be dignified and wise, having become overcome by rage.

Dwalin grabbed her firmly from behind, slightly shocked at her unusual behavour.

"Sister! What is the matter?" Dwalin demanded,

"I am defending the honor of the dwarrowdam!" Malin burst out, "You had better be a dwarf and stand up to face me, son of Ghori!"

Dwalin's face was grim. He took hold of Dori in one arm and Malin in the other.

"Sister, show me proof of what you speak."

* * *

Elekh opened the door to see three disheleved dwarves waiting outside. Dori looked confused, but when his face fell on the sleeping Lallek, he said,

"Lallek?"

"You know her?" Dwalin asked,

"She is your wife, is she not?" demanded Malin,

"No, no," said Dori, burying his face in his hands, " I suspected Nori and her... well I saw them alone together once. I didn't know they..."

Lallek opened her eyes and turned to where the sound came from.

"Dori!" she exclaimed, her voice weak and her nose again blocked "Where is your brother Dnori? Is he here too?"

Dwalin had let go of Dori, who had seated down on the chair in astonishment and began to try to reassure Lallek regarding her husband _Nori. _.Dwalin then pulled Malin out of the room and shoved her against the wall,

"I made an honest mistake, brother!" Malin protested, "It must be that we misheard, because she was crying and her nose was blocked,"

"Do not make such mistakes again," groaned Dwalin, "You impetuous creature. Since when is it yur business to go around defendin' the honor of dwarrowdams whose husbands you mistake for their brothers? Such a scene you made today..."

"She is all alone in this world and her father is dead. If I do not help her, who will?"

"Helping does not involved getting into duels and attacking innocent dwarves, " Dwalin said, "Apologize to Dori!"

"There is no need," Dori came around to the corridor, his eyes furious, "I would have done the same thing. Just you _wait _'till I get my hands on my brother."

Dori stormed off.


	11. Chapter 11

_Dear readers - in this chapter, Balin, Dwalin and Malin come to realizations of their own, which I hope is interesting. Malin is not really the "central" type of OC, to whom a lot of adventures and exciting things happen. She's more of an expository device, something that holds the plot together, someone through whose eyes we can see the AU Erebor (hope that makes sense) - a lot things happen around her. Thanks for your support! Writing fiction is totally new to me and its an interesting project._

** Chapter 11: Being a Dwarrowdam**

"You shudda seen her, brother!" Dwalin exclaimed as he enthusiastically shoved a hunk of ham in his mouth.

"Well, all in a day's work, eh, lassie?" Balin smiled congenially, then his happy expression fell, as, over Malin's shoulder, some dwarves were nodding at him from the other end of the dining hall. Balin lowered his voice and looked serious.

"Malin," he said, "What happened today... it would be best if that didn't happen again. It isn't considered right for a woman to be so... unprotected. It would look badly on some of us. Some of the other dwarrows have spoken to me, and I am sorry I left you to your own. Dwalin and I have no idea of what it means to care for a woman."

"Whadaya mean," demanded Dwalin, "Malin is as strong as an orc... I meant an _ox._"

"Even so, Malin, it isn't good for you to be living on yours own or being left to yourself. Perhaps Dwalin or I should accompany you when you leave your quarters. Maybe you would be better off living with us."

Malin was uncomfortable. Dwalin was horrified.

_I have lived alone for years. Why do you suddenly care now? _Malin thought angrily, but she pushed away her anger when she saw that Balin was simply being concerned.

"I understand now that dwarrowdams need to be protected_, " _said Balin, "Some have advised me on that matter."

"Protected from what?" asked Malin, slowly, "Injury? For fear that my beauty will be destroyed? I'm sorry, my Lord Balin, but it has been years since that has ever been a consideration. This is how I have lived in the Iron Hills."

Balin couldn't fathom her for a second. Were not women to be protected, guarded, preserved... cherished?

"I think what she's saying, Balin," Dwalin said with unusual perception, "Is that Malin has chose to live her life as any of us dwarves... not as a woman _normally _would."

"Aye," added Malin, "I turned down all offers for marriage consistently, until, years ago, I made up my mind. Since there, none have approached me. I built up a business and engaged in profitable trade - all under the support and protection of Lord Dain. "

_I could be still living that life... _Malin thought.

"Ah," said Balin, comprehending, remembering some things Dain had told him about Lady Malin. You could hear the admiration in Dain's voice.

_That is why she carries herself the way she does. She wanted to be taken seriously - not as an object of beauty. _Balin looked at her covered neck and shapeless clothes, unadorned hair and overall plainness. _I wonder what she would look like.. adorned? _

"I think you should let her be," said Dwalin, "She's lived well up until now, and she's very capable."

"And I want a j_ob," _announced Malin, "For that is what I miss the most about my past life - being engaged with trade. Working for you brings great satisfaction to me."

Malin was making it clear she wanted to be her own person, live her own life on her terms. Dwalin was supporting her. So Balin nodded,

"I'll inquire. But I can't say that folks here will understand."

Then Balin changed the subject.

"Are you truly happy here, Malin? Do you ever long for life in the Iron Hills?"

"I thank you for that life you gave me, my brother," Malin said slowly, "I can honestly say that every moment of every day I miss my companions and I miss my old life. But I have lived here in Erebor for such a short time, I do not know how to understand my new life. I can only say that I will hope and work towards settling down here and finding my place in this mountain. The first decision you made for me was for the best, and I believe that your second one will, after a time. Perhaps Erebor will be more of a home to me if the blessed day comes when I am _useful _and _needed, _rather than a burden. I dislike being a burden and have not been so for a long time until I came here."

"Ah," said Balin, "I see. Well, that won't be the case much longer. I am up to my neck, literally, in work. It would be a great joy if you'd like to share my office with me. How would you like to oversea all trade and valuation here? Get the industry going again?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lord." Malin's eyes shone with pure anticipation.

"Unless of course you'd like to join me in the armory and train the brute squad," Dwalin offered,

Malin made a wry face, "I've have quite enough of that for one lifetime, I assure you."

"I don't know - you have talent!"

"Bah! There's nothing I haven't learned from the Dain's private guard," Malin added, "Go to them if you want help."

Dwalin kept silent, for nothing would damage his pride more than seeking counsel from the army of the Iron Hills.

* * *

"What are your plans for her," Dwalin inquired of Balin,

"We still need to help her find her place here, where she can feel useful," Balin said, "I understand now... the way she feels. It is the same with you and I - we never _wanted _anything more.."

"Aye," replied Dwalin, and the night settled to silence

_Perhaps not until now, _thought Dwalin, who then shook himself. The events of the day were interesting to him. Up until then, Dwalin had never given women a second thought, but when he had held Malin, it had suddenly occured to him that females were quite unlike males, that they were soft and so delightful..., even Malin.

_How could you think that? _Dwalin reproached himself. _She is your sister, for Mahal's sake._

But like it or not, Dwalin, for the first time in his life, wondered what it meant to be loved and to not be alone. The thought intrigued him, and he thought on it whilst whistling and polishing the weapons that adorned his bedroom wall.


	12. Chapter 12

_A short chapter, and posted early as well, today, dear readers, then back to normal tomorrow. Day after, there's a long Durin's Day Festival story, with more Dis! Also, I may or may not take a short writing break after that to plan the next leg of the story. BoryBorys - Yup, that's right. Malin basically is a ward of Balin, until she married or he dies, in which case she become Dwalin's ward. If she's widowed then she's on her own.. yippee? _

**Chapter 12: Aftermath**

Gimli polished his axes with concentrated enthusiam that night. He was in a good mood, despite the fact that his mother was not. Ghiza had heard that Gloin had started some fight in the training arena _again. _She was furious, and getting more angry at him because he had sent Gimli home for dinner but had not shown up himself. The shaft of the loom thumped dangerously with a foreboding, regular rhythm. A click of exasperation sounded from Ghiza as she had realized a mistake she had made. In the intervening silence that follow as she fixed the mistake, the front door swung upon and in walked in Gloin, drunk.

"Ghiza, my dear."

She scowled and did not turn around.

Gloin was insufferable when he won a bet. He got drunk, and got into fights mostly with bartenders for refusing to pay their "exorbitant" prices. He came home all knocked up and frothy. Ghiza was used to this.

"What happened today, Gloin?"

There was a dangerous note in her voice.

He laughed, a deep bellowing laugh than came from his tummy. Walking over to the loom, he put his arm around Ghiza,

"Your friend, Balin's sister, she beat Dori in a fight. I won some bets."

"Something about some dwarrowdam he insulted, Ma." Gimli added in, not wanting Gloin to beat him to the best bits of the story.

"Hmm..." Ghiza said slowly, then smiled sideways at Gloin, "At least a dwarrowdam taught you fools a lesson for once."

"Oh, my jewel, you've taught everything I need to know," Gloin said teasingly and when Gimli looked up, the two were kissing, _loudly_.

"Oh ma, pa," Gimli covered his eyes, "That's gross."

"Someday you'll understand, Gimli," Ghiza said, not looking at him, "When you find a dwarrowdam you fancy and she fancies you."

"Never!" Gimli proclaimed, "I'm a bachelor for life."

Gimli excused himself to go look for his friends.

When the door closed, Gloin shook his head,

"Looks like we're not going to be getting grandchildren."

Ghiza pouted and frowned, then her face lit up with a smile,

"We're not too old for another child, you know."

Gloin grinned back.

* * *

At the _Drunken Miner, _Gimli was having an ale to himself. He nursed it gently, observing his surroundings. Usually he chugged down a couple of ales before you could say "Axes of the Dwarves", but today, people were giving him weird looks. The barkeep was especially sour.

When Gimli paid up for his one ale and was about to leave, the barkeeper growled, "Yer pa furgot to pay for his drink, and of top of that he started a huge ruckus which resulted in a huge mess."

"I don't know..." Gimli said slowly, fingering to the axe at his waist. He smiled at the barkeeper and spied a quick exit route, "I don't know about my pa. Maybe you should come around and see him tomorrow. Good day, sir."

Gimli was out of there before his sentence was over, but a hand pulled him back. Bofur had just entered the pub with two young, plump dwarrowdams.

"Gimli!" Bofur yelled enthusiastically, "What are you doing here? Where's your pa?"

"At home," Gimli said defensively, "How about you, sir?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Gimli saw the barkeeper striding towards Bofur's back.

"Me?" Bofur's laugh rang out, "I own this place."

"Excuse me, sir," the barkeeper said politely to Bofur, "That young lad's pa didn't pay his bills earlier."

"Aww shucks, Griff," Bofur laughed and clapped him on his back, "Don't be so serious. It's on the house, aye, Gimli?"

"And what about the mess earlier? I had to scrub the floors!"

"Take the night off," Bofur suggested, "Get some rest. I'll take care of things tonite."

"Thank you, sir!" Griff was all smiles now and he made his way out.

"And now, lad, " Bofur put his arm around Gimli's shoulder, "Had dinner? Nevermind, come have another one. Eat with my nieces Drof, Grof and I."

The two eldest daughters of Bombur smiled shyly at Gimli from their table. Tonight was their special night out with Uncle Bofur.

"Err..." Gimli shifted uncomfortably, "I'd better get going."

"I don't think your ma and pa will want you home any time soon," Bofur teased,

"How'd you know?" Gimli gasped,

"I know your pa, is all." Bofur chuckled, "Kili and Fili are on their way to join us for a second dinner. It's something we learned from the hobbits."

Gimli had a reasonably tolerable evening that night. Between Bofur, Kili Fili and the two giggling dwarrowdams, he hardly got a word in edgewise. The food was good, and as for the ale, well, no one was going to complain at Erebor's only drinking house.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 11: Labour Until Dawn**

When Nori returned to his quarters two days later, Dori was waiting for him. Dori's face was a mask of indifference, but his hands shook and his rage was being carefully held back.

"You have a lot to explain, brother, " Dori said very slowly, "What happened between you and Lallek the daughter of Dallek?"

Nori's lips involuntarily upturned in a small smile of longing before he went pale with realization, and tried to change the subject by inquiring after Thorin's health.

"No, I want to hear what you have to say on this matter!" Dori demanded, grabbing Nori and holding him off the ground, "Did you and or did you not marry her!"

"I did, " squeaked Nori, his throat constricted,

"She is here." Dori said sullenly.

Dori put Nori down and then continued, "And she is with child."

Nori's eyes went wide and he looked happy.

"I shall go and see her at once!"

"She does not wish to see you."

"Her father wouldn't know," Nori pouted, "I know how to be quiet."

"Her father is dead, though he would have been very happy to send you to Mahal himself were he alive..." Dori said, and looked to the floor so that he wouldn't have to see Nori's joy discovering that fact, "I would be very happy to send you to meet him! You... _You_ were quite obvious when she saw you with another woman the night she arrived her, the night you left on your latest... _trip._"

Dori couldn't hide his disgust as he spat those words out.

"No, no," Nori protested, "It wasn't a dwarrowdam. It was Kili, dressed as a dwarrowdam. I sneaked him out to Dale to see his beloved elf under disguise."

Then Nori added, "The King musn't know."

Dori's mouth was agape, and he took a few seconds to take the facts in.

"Indeed," said Dori finally, "Well, the Prince may have to answer for his own actions eventually, but I do not want you to be invovled any further, understand?"

"Can I see her now?" Nori asked, then pleased, "Please, Dori."

"Whose idea was it?" Dori could not help but ask,

"Mine," said Nori, "Kili begged me to help him get out, and I made him repay me by dressing as a dwarrowdam."

Dori held his face between his hands.

"Oh, Nori. Oh, Nori."

Nori was smiling from ear to ear.

_Oh Mahal, what have I done to deserve such a brother? _

* * *

Lallek was panting, groaning and moaning. Elekh, the midwife, was bustling around. Nori sat in the corner, shooed away by the midwife. It was a mercy he was even allowed in the room - it was but three days after they had reconciled. Elekh still sent Nori spine-chilling glares whenever Lallek wasn't looking. As for Lallek, she was over the moon with elation, and even in the midst of labour the joy didn't quite wear off.

Lallek had been _so _happy to see Nori, and the minute the door opened he would have ran to her save for Dori's death-grip on his elbow. Well, that was over, thankfully and everything was sorted out. Nori was, deep down, just like any other typically overprotective dwarf who believed women should be coddled, etc. etc. Nori couldn't feel bad enough for what he had done to her, and determined to make up to Lallek in a thousand ways, starting by resolving to get into respectable occupation, though it wouldn't quite do to inform Nori.

Malin had been summoned - Lallek wanted her so much to be there and to hold her hand, not that, in the heat of things, Lallek was capable of being comforted even by those nearest and dearest. Labour was new and bewildering to Lallek; she had barely even had the time to think of the life she, Nori and the babe would have together now.

Dori was sitting outside, having got over the shock that his brother was _married, _and thankfully quite properly so, and now he was quite unprepared for the fact that he would soon be an _uncle. _Ori was nervous, not knowing what to think. He was buried in some study of history, taking copious notes with shivering hands, trying to shut out life and its many unanswered questions and unresolvable complexities.

_Nori... _married? Nori... a _father? _

* * *

Lallek bit her lip and threw her head back, hissing. _I'm going to have this baby soon, _she thought, grimacing her face in concentration_._ The waves of contractions rose and fell, leaving her winded and exhausted. It was as terrible as she expected, but with determination in her soul, she pushed through. Nori's coming had made her happy, and when she was happy, no difficulty was insurmountable, even this terrible ordeal. So now she was patient and calm between pains, and quite strong in the midst of them, though it took all her energies to be so. It was hard, and tortuously long, and exhausting, and agonizing, but she kept going, determined to put all her strength to delivering the much-desired child. After so many months of hiding the pregnancy, she hadn't even had much time to adjust to the thought of the child.

The birth went quite regularly, the child was born before too many hours had passed. Lallek collapsed in exhaustion and Elekh did her best to ease her friend. Malin had simply stood by and said very little, merely holding hands, dabbing foreheads and rubbing Lallek's back whenever if was necessary. Malin was just _there. _Nori, well, Elekh decided to make him fully a part of things by ordering him around. In fact, no one spoke much except or Elekh.

"You hold that leg back, Nori... the _left _one! Good girl Lallek, you're almost there. Just a little bit more. Push with the next contraction. Good girl, now pant for me, that's right. Ha..ha...And PUSH! That's it."

Elekh bent down and motioned for Nori to join her at the foot of the bed. Lallek, sweating, and flushed, strained to flash Nori a weak smile and a wink, then she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed. The noise was deafening. Malin was holding her up, letting Lallek squeeze her hands.

A broad smile spread across Elekh's face as the baby completely emerged. She held on to Nori to make sure he was there.

"Nori! What are you, a chicken? Never seen blood before?" Elekh muttered, picking up the babe. As she cleaned the child and made sure he could breathe, she was telling Lallek,

"Lallek, you have a beautiful, healthy baby boy. He has so much brown hair.! And your eyes!"

Wrapping the babe swiftly in a blanket, she gently put the him in Lallek's arms. Nori came and sat by Lallek and they whispered together.

"You were fine, Lallek, just fine. He so beautiful. Looks just like you."

Malin took a glimpse at the couple and their baby and then smiled. She got up and went to help Elekh on the other side.

* * *

"So difficult..." Lallek sighed and said in a barely audible voice before falling asleep, "Good that it's all over... so much to look forward too."

Nori held the child in is arms incredulously and gently. Dori and Ori were beside him - this was the moment for the three of them together, after Malin and Elekh had left.

"I'm proud of you," Dori said quietly, "Though I wish I could say that more often."

"What are you naming him, Nori?" Ori asked,

"I don't know. Lallek and I will speak about it. I was thinking of Lir."

"Time we left you," said Dori, "Come Ori, good-nite little one. Be good to your father. Make sure you don't drop him, Nori."

"You mean like you dropped Ori?" Nori sniggered,

"You did what?" Ori demanded,

Whistling, Dori walked down the corridor, motioning for Ori to follow him

"It's long past your bedtime, Ori."

Ori rolled his eyes, "I'm not a child. I'm a veteran of the Battle of Five Armies!"

Nori heard them fussing at each other, their voices fading down the corridor. It was early in the morning, and he was standing alone. Slowly, he stifled a yawn, and tenderly adjusted the baby's blanket, walking back into the dim, quiet room and closing the door.


	14. Chapter 14

_Dear readers, thanks for all your favorites, follows and comments! Lemme know what you think of today's episode :), a double-length Durin's Day special. I'm starting to think of my fanfic as a sitcom rather than a movie, you know, small storylines but the same setting day after day, without beginning or end. Good day! _

**Chapter 14: A Day to Dance**

Durin's Day dawned. The king's first act of the day was to send congratulations to Nori and Lallek by way of some golden gifts, in honor of the first babe born in the recovered Erebor, exactly on Durin's Day. Malin was exhausted, and did not get up until an hour before the celebrations would start at noon.

"Please wear something... different," Balin had begged weeks earlier, "For me."

Malin had consented and Balin had sent her a seamstress with rich maroon and silver material. Malin had nearly driven the seamstress mad, but today she wore the rich, youthful gown, well made and fitted. Her hair had been styled, much to her protest, very elegantly with mithril beads. Even her long beard, usually swept under her chin and into her bun, had been curled and braided and beaded.

"You won't stand out, Malin," Balin had promised, "Everyone will be in their finery. Why, even Dwalin had consented to wear beads in his hair."

Dwalin and Balin were waiting for her outside the ballroom as promised. They looked fine, and praised her beauty, but Malin was not thinking of herself today, however. Today was going to be a very special day for two special someones.

Kili and Fili had become very proficient dancers in a short time, and Malin had made plans, pairing the Prince Fili with the healer Elekh for the first dance.

For the first dance, the young and eligible were lined up masked in the center of the room, males and females with the backs to their partner. Then, when the dance began, they turned around and danced - it was an old, ceremonial and formal dance. Then when the dance was over, they removed their masks and got a close look at their partner for the first time. After that, dances were free and open to invitation.

Of course, the discrepancy between males and females meant that the partners were engaged beforehand by the promises of an intermediary, and Malin had promised both Elekh and Fili (separately) to find them a partner. Elekh, because she was very shy and had no one to recommend her (preferring to forgo the dance altogether), and Fili, being the crown prince and required to join the dance, had begged Malin to secure him a partner so that his mother would not have to.

So Malin lined up her two proteges and went proudly to the side of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she say a very, very beautiful and regal Dis motioning for Malin to join her beside the tables of food. Malin moved behind the motley emsemble of musicians, squeezing her way quietly to Dis's ide.

Malin reluctantly and obediently made her way there, and bowed before the princess. Dis nodded, regally.

"So you found my son a dance partner." Dis didn't sound displeased (nor pleased, for that matter.)

Malin swallowed and nodded. She did not want to imagine was her Ladyship would think of the presumption.

Dis sighed, "Its just as well. I don't know many people here. I've have very bad luck trying to match my sons. Either they can't stand the girls, or the girls run away at the sight of them... the poor lads just have to make do with a mother such as I."

"Far from it," Malin protested, "They love your dearly, my princess."

"Still," Dis said as she watched the dance begin, "You must tell me what you know of that girl before... if... they get serious. I hear you were quite the expert at royal matchmaking."

Malin blushed, looking aghast at the sarcastic comment.

"Well," Dis demanded impatiently, "Who is the girl?"

"Elekh is an excellent healer," Malin began, "From the blue mountains. Not a noble, but not a poor peasant either. Her father was a tradesman, but her brother brought her here after their parents died in the winter. He is a fine goldsmith."

"What kind of queen will she make?" Dis got to the point directly.

"Elekh is intelligent, capable, and yet very humble. She serves loyally and tirelessly those she loves without a thought for herself. This I have seen."

"Indeed," said Dis, "And so, what do you believe matters more - noble birth or strength of character and wisdom?"

"Many women I have known," said Malin thoughtfully, "Both nobles and those of lesser rank, have such character that they rose to all responsibilities with grace. It is not birth or privilege that makes a person, it is whether they have humility, determination and a strong, brave, and loving heart."

Malin was quiet. Had she offended the Princess?

"Yes," Dis smiled, "That is what I believe as well. Often have I felt unworthy of my position. It is not the person I am born to be, but the person I am made to become, that determines whether I succeed or fail, whether I have fortitude and nobility or I do not. My brother, he naturally had the qualities of leadership that came out as responsibilities were thrust on him at a young age, responsibilities he did not ask for."

"Lord Dain succeeded his father after Azulnibizar," Malin said, "He was so young, but there is said that none equals his wisdom."

Malin quite forgot she was in Erebor for a second, and chastised herself for speaking so thoughtlessly. From now own she would have to praise Thorin's wisdo, not Dain's, though from what she had heard she didn't think there was much of it. Bravery, determination, honour - these were the qualities of the king of Erebor. She did not consider wisdom amongst them. He was quite unfavorable, in Malin's eyes, when compared to Lord Dain.

Dis's lips quivered up into a smile, "Aye. Cousin Dain was a great help to Thorin after the battle last year. Knocked some sense into Thorin, he did."

Malin was relieved, and tried to keep her lips shut as she listened to Dis observe and criticize the dancers and their partners. Thankfully she found nothing amiss about Elekh.

"Might I ask," Dis said after all (Dis was known to be very blunt, inquisitive and straight to the point), "Was there ever anything between you and Lord Dain?"

Malin look surprised, so Dis continued, "It would have made a fine match you know, you being of the royal line, you know."

"Nay, " Malin smiled, "He is much older than I. We grew up as brother and sister in the court. They were like a family to me, and were there for me all those years. I knew for years who his heart's desire was - for my bosom friend the Lady Dsyli. She is a noble of high rank as well."

_I miss her dearly, _Malin wanted to add.

Dis, satisfied with the answer, continued on to other topics of conversation. Malin stood at her left, keeping Dis company but secretly amusing herself by observing young Gimli. Gimli hated dancing, and was hiding from his mother. Thankfully, he had missed the first dance and was now being engaged in a wary but involved argument with Bifur in iglishmek over the superiority of axes or spears behind a dark pillar in a nearby corner of the room. Ghiza smiled over at Malin in search of her son.

"You should be well acquainted with the workings of the royal court," Dis remarked,

"Aye, I grew up with it," Malin said.

"I did not," said Dis, "Life was all exile for us. This kind of life is... very different for me."

Malin felt a pang of guilt - Dis, the princess, had been living in deprivation with her people whilst Malin enjoyed the luxuries of Dain's court.

"The truth is, " said Dis, "If Thorin or my father knew what Balin had done as a young man, sending you away, they would have considered it a great betrayal of our people, a desertion and an act of cowardice. Father would have refused to send me away. As it is, your presence and absence went unnoticed. Besides, Balin was young and had just lost his father. He did his best."

"Aye," Malin nodded, her thoughts jumbled in confusion, "Does the king approve of my presence?"

"I dare say he has no say on the matter," Dis replied, "What's done is done, and Balin and Dwalin are of too much value to him personally for him to differ with them. But I think he is hurt that they kept it from him, that they did not consider life with our people sufficient for you."

Malin felt as if she was going to sink through the floor. Why did life have to be so complicated? Thankfully Dis's attention returned to the dance.

The dance was going well. Malin had probably been more nervous that the couple themselves, but so far it went well. Kili had also been paired, by Dis, with Dis's handmaiden, who was slightly older than him and was tolerant of him but immune to Kili's charms.

When the dance ended, Fili, knowing of no other dwarrowdam and being shy to make new acquaintances, danced with Elekh again. And then again.

Then the dances for the youth ended and the free dances began. Couples danced together as a rule, but anyone else could dance with, literally, anyone else. These were cordial dances of friendship and loyalty. Gloin and Ghiza were dancing together, and would probably do so the whole night, forgetting anyone else in the room. Bombur wasn't fond of dancing, in fact, he'd much rather eat the whole night, but Bofur forced him to take Iga for a dance. Poor Iga, she loved dancing but Bombur did not. Bombur wouldn't have minded if she danced with the whole of Erebor, so that's what she did, after the first dance.

Malin consented to dance with Bofur, who then danced the next dance with Dis, the two making a comical mismatch. Malin, after one dance, decided to go for some ale. However Oin and Bifur were waiting in line to dance with her. Both of them danced really well. Then Dwalin for one danced as promised, awkwardly, and then Balin with much grace. And then Ori, who had been put up to it by Dwalin.

_Oh dear, _Malin thought, _When am I ever going to get a rest? _

Malin was one of the most popular dancers that day, for she danced on and on and never seemed to tire. Most would have thought the highlight of the night would be the dance with the king, which was quite a thing to be sure. She wanted the mountain to swallow her in the endless dancing, fearful the whole time of the king demanding the reason behind her disloyalty to her people. She half-expected him to end the dance halfway and accuse her of treason. But Thorin face was blank and grim. Thankfully no words passed between them, and, glancing at Dis, she felt as if they did not hold any resentment regarding the past. Then all was forgotten when Malin was approached by Dori.

She blushed as she rarely did.

_Oh dear, _Malin thought, _This is awkward. _

The whole crowd was looking, especially those who had observed the momentous sword battle. Malin didn't think that Dori would want to dance with her. Perhaps he was doing so because all the Company did, because she was the sister of one of their own?

_That was a lovely dance, _Malin had to admit. Dori was a good dancer. And very pleasant company, for he had insisted that Malin should rest and eat, and even brought her a selection of meats, cheese, pastries and a glass of wine. After all, Dori insisted, she deserved a rest after ten dances. She didn't have to say much to him, thankfully.

Then the chatter, dancing and music paused as the king got up to make a long political speech about the reclamation of Erebor, praising and thanking his faithful companions who joined the venture, etc. etc. Malin didn't listen much, as she was busy eating.

Oin then came up to her the moment the speech was over and said, "Might you consent to another dance with your aged cousin, milady?"

Malin smiled back politely and joined the dancing once again. Dis had danced as much as was a duty, then Thorin rescued hey requesting her presence on the dais. All the dwarves sighed a sigh of disappointed as she left the dancing - it could be said that she was the most greatly admired of all the women in Erebor. She then sat willing with Thorin as he sat and stared at the celebrations, looking in nothing in particular and brooding soberly.

"Don't worry about me tonight, Balin" the King had insisted earlier, "You have a good time. You too, Dwalin, you deserve it."

Dwalin was chucking ale down his throat, as much ale as the air he breathed. Balin danced a little, but mostly sat and listened to the music with a smile.

Actually, since dwarf women are few, both group and pair dancing worked with each song, so many males would dance in groups around the hall together if they did not have a partner. There were those who stayed in that circle the whole night, though things were jolly there as well.

* * *

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Malin inquired of Elekh as they left the hall just before dawn. Elekh actually blushed and replied positively and sweetly.

"No doubt the princess will be demanding an interview with you tomorrow," Malin teased, whilst Elekh recoiled in horror,

"She is a wonderful woman," Malin said to Elekh, "It is wise for her to be your friend, if not anything more."

Before Elekh could protest at the teasing, Malin was gone.

In her room, Malin looked at herself in the brass mirror and sighed. She had to admit that she _was _beautiful, all glowing and flushed. But today came once in a long time, and tomorrow, she would not be Malin, Queen of the Dance but simply Malin - plain, simple Malin who had a draconian mountain of paperwork to go through.


	15. Chapter 15

_Dear readers, well, here begins the second lap of the story. I have honestly no idea where I'm going with this, so bear with me, okay? Do stories need a large over-arching plot or problems? Thanks for the all the feedback, favorites, follows and reviews! :).  
_

* * *

**Chapter 15: The Day After**

The Lonely Mountain resonated, not with music, but with the reverberations of deep sleep after the Durin's Day festivities ended. Even Malin slept well, and did not have any nightmares, being far too tired after missing sleep for the past two days.

She awoke with a start promptly at noon, and clambered out of bed, very disappointed with herself for missing work. Malin deliberated whether to attend to her duties today, or call in sick, for she could feel that her throat was dry. She coughed up a little phlegm and groaned

Without fail, every winter, Malin would get sick for a couple of months before she adjusted to the change in weather. Even then she always refused to venture out of the mountain, but stayed cooped up in her room and office. Unlike most dwarves, Malin tended to "hibernate" through the winter, sleeping long hours huddled under quilts, waiting for the miserable cold to go away – not that she liked spring or summer all that much either.

You might realize by now that Malin is a grumpy dwarf – if she had something to gripe about, she will. And she tends to bury that misery in sleep (having only a relatively mild liking for strong drink). Malin is not one of those fussy dwarves who insist on staying on working even when dreadfully ill, or who ignore their health altogether - she also took great care of herself and made sure she had enough rest.

For several months, Malin had been able to shut unpleasant memories and nightmares out of her mind, and they no longer plagued her like they used to, when she fought so hard and zealously to forget and always seemed to lose. Perhaps the change of atmosphere from the Iron Hills, the corridors and halls she loved and had frequented during good times and bad times, and from her usual friends, made her feel as if life had really begun anew for Malin. Now she had mixed feelings about Erebor - it would never be the Iron Hills, but it wasn't unbearable.

Malin scurried around the apartment in her dressing gown, and whilst she scoffed down a hunk of bread and cheese for breakfast, she found a note from Balin on her side table.

_Dear sister, do take the day off to rest. I'm doing the same. Balin. _

Malin put the note down and breathed in relief. She hadn't had even a sip of water yet, and her throat was as dry as paper. Pouring herself a glass, she noticed that her throat was quite dry and itchy, so Malin drank the water down and flinched at the unpleasant reaction of her throat.

_What am I going to do today?_

Malin knew she had better drink plenty of warm water. Even in the Iron Hills, which was well-heated during the winter, she always had a bad cough the minute Durin's Day was over, if she didn't take good care of herself. Indeed, once it had almost become bronchitis; and she had gotten pneunomia before as well.

Winters were terribly miserable in general, and Malin had yet to experience winter in Erebor. Erebor was probably going to be even colder, judging by the stronger, chilling winds that swept around the mountain.

Malin got dressed, slipped down to the office to pick up some papers to read through, and decided to spend the rest of the day in bed. When Ale came to clean her quarters after the midday meal, which Malin had sent up to her from the kitchens, Malin got her to start a roaring hot fire in the bedroom. Malin spent the rest of the day drinking hot drinks, buried under her eiderdown quilt, reading and making notes. Once she spilled a little ink on the white quilt, which vexed her greatly.

Malin was coming down with a sore throat, whether she liked it or not. Her head felt warm.

But then Dwalin _had _to visit. He was usually not the chatty sort, but he always frequented Malin's quarters now, since she always had a supply of food. Malin got up to entertain him, and did as little as possible, eventualy sinking down in one of the chairs by the fire, wrapped in a wool shawl (a gift of Ghiza, one she had woven herself.)

Dwalin was one who couldn't tell winter from summer, who's life never differed or changed its paced.

"I'm finally free to take you to Dale next week," he announced.

Malin's eyebrows raised. She had been pestering him for _weeks, _and now, _during winter, _he wanted to take her to Dale to see the markets.

"Wonderful," she said, "Is it snowing yet?"

"Now for another week, Balin says," Dwalin replied, "It'll be a bit wet, but there shouldn't be a problem. Maybe tomorrow?"

Malin thought about it. She had really wanted to see the market of Dale, and it was quite essential for her work. Winter would not get better - she had better go now or wait until spring.

"Alright," said Malin, "Tomorrow. Just the two of us?"

"I'll ask around to see if anyone wants to go. Most people are busy today."

"Any news from Nori?"

"Everything's quite quiet."

"Ale tells me they'll be moving into bigger quarters in a few weeks, nearer to Dori's. Its quite hard with Lallek's rooms being so small and with the brothers' rooms at the opposite end of the mountain..."

"Ah, money won't be the problem though," Dwalin commented, and then bit into the warm toast.

The room was pretty much quiet for the rest of the evening. Malin got up to prepare a burning hot, potent infusion of bitter herbs - she hated the sting of its taste, and it completely undid her temperament-wise, but it always worked when she needed to get something done in the winter, staving off the cold for a couple of hours.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Missing the Boat

It was a chill, blustery winter's day. Dwalin had finally agreed to take Malin to see Dale, and Oin came along to shop for herbal supplies. Obviously Dwalin didn't consider the weather a factor, because it was raining. Malin, heavily cloaked and almost unidentifiable beneath all the wool she was wrapped in, found it difficult to dodge around the deepy muddy puddles scattered across the road and couldn't keep up with Dwalin, who was so very much taller. Finally Dwalin grunted and swept her into his arms, walking over (and into) puddles with , wrapped in a cloak, was following close behind with ease.

Dwalin carried her a little longer than necessary. He was actually enjoying this more than he should have, carrying her in his arms. Over the past few days since Durin's Day, he had been eyeing dwarrowdams with some interest, but to not much success. Thankfully, Balin and Malin were a little dense and had not noticed Dwalin's new interest, not that he had been very obvious. Dwalin was just keeping an eye out, anyway.

Dwalin now regretted starting so late, as it were, for most dwarrowdams were already married, widowed, or were simply much to young for him. Would he ever find his One? Perhaps he ought to ask for some advice - from someone he could trust with experience. Thorin? Dwalin knew he had a tumultuous history when it came to love, to be sure. Balin? Clueless. Gloin... now Gloin was someone Dwalin could consult. Bombur as well. But Dwalin had a sneaking suspicion Gloin wouldn't be able to shed any light on the issue except to extol the virtues of his wife and the strength of his son. And Bombur, well, wasn't much one for talking. No, Dwalin was not even going to think about Dori...

Maybe a dwarrowdam? Ghiza always made Dwalin nervous, because she was so pretty. Dis was fearsome. Iga, Bombur's wife, was always busy, and quite curt and impatient with Dwalin,a chronic food-snitcher. Malin was as clueless as Balin.

Dwalin ran through the list of dwarrowdams he knew.

_What about Pearl? _Dale was coming into view, but Dwalin felt his heart gladden at the thought of Pearl, who had been a pretty, charming little lass, a good and faithful friend. They had trained side by side at the armory for years, and she had married another dwarf, who had died a few years back. Pearl was very good with axes, and she and Dwalin had chosen the names for Grasper and Keeper together. She was a good friend, one of the few women Dwalin knew and could speak to with ease, though usually on the subject of sparring and battles.

Over the years, they had grown apart. Pearl hardly spoke him now, but Dwalin chose to think now of the good times they had had. After all, she was now in Erebor, and Dwalin didn't feel at all inclined to consult the Princess Dis. Even as a child, she had always had a "touch-me-not" air.

"Thanks," said Malin. The potent, bitter infusion she had drunk by the mugful yesterday and today seems to have worked, though indeed of feeling the cold numb her bones, her muscles had the strange sensation of being on fire.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" Dwalin mumbled,

"Sort of, " Malin admitted, "I'm not a great traveler. I hate leaving the mountain, I feel as if I can burrow deep within a mountain and never leave."

"Balin and I travelled and lot," Dwalin said, "Seen lots of places. I like to get out of the mountain, sometimes. Its great to get away from official business for a day or two..."

"How's your work?"

"It isn't easy." Dwalin looked defeated,

"What's the matter?"

"He's been very tired... down." Dwalin sighed, "Reclaiming Erebor was hard on us but specially on him.. he's not young anymore."

"I've been meaning to ask you, Dwalin," Malin brought up the subject nervously, "I wonder if my presence incurs the king's displeasure..."

"What?"

The thought had never occurred to Dwalin. Dwalin shook his head,

"No, I can't say it has. He's been generally pleasant about it all, even asked us once if you're quarters are to your satisfaction. _Dis _is very happy to have you here, anyways. Why do you ask?"

"Do you remember the two dwarves from the Iron Hills that arrived in the summer? The king turned them away because their father was a captain in King Thror's army who left with his family for the Iron Hills... _deserters. _The king called them deserters and asked that they leave."

"Thorin is severe for a reason," growled Dwalin, but when he saw Malin shrink, he patted her on the back and added, "No, it isn't like that with you. Mahal knows we couldn't raise a girl - Balin and I were soldiers... we did things back in the day... well its lucky we're alive today. We couldn't have done our work and cared for a wee lass. Thorin knows. He had Dis to look after, and the two boys."

"Do you remember his brother Frerin, the prince?" Malin asked,

"Of course."

Dwalin said no more, so Malin continued,

"I remember him too," Malin said, "He sparred with you a lot."

"Aye. That was a long time ago"

Malin didn't know how to continue. They neared a steeper climb and she was soon out of breath, but Dwalin chose that moment to add,

"Do you remember Pearl from the Blue Mountains?" Dwalin said cautiously, "She sparred with Frerin and I."

"No." Malin said, "I just met her the other day at tea with Ghiza. Pearl came to Erebor recently, did you know? She's coming for tea tomorrow."

"Ah..." said Dwalin, sounding uninterested,

"Will you be traveling a great deal, now?" Malin asked after awhile,

"If Thorin is going abroad, then either Balin or I will go with him, usually. But don't worry - we have much to do in Erebor, its a much more settled life than in the Iron Hills. We won't be leaving you."

"That's nice to know," Malin said, "Its nice to have family around, I don't know what I'll do in Erebor if... anything happened to both of you."

"The royals will take care of you," Dwalin assured her, "Gloin, Oin, Ghiza - they'll be around too. You won't be alone. We're the Durins - we stick together."

The conversation carried on a little bit concerning the weather. It was almost as if Oin wasn't there, because he generally wasn't keen on conversation, even if his hearing was better than usual.

* * *

When the company of three arrived in Dale, Oin went off on his own and promised to meet them at the city gates in an hour.

"I should go with him" said Malin, "I'm afraid he won't be able to converse with the traders. Might get cheated, or hurt."

"He's always took fine care of himself, Oin does," grumbled Dwalin, "It'll take us twice as long to get home if we don't split up. And if I let you do your shopping alone, Balin will spear me with his tongue."

Malin did not enjoy the markets that day. Dwalin was rushing to go home before the weather got worse, but she managed to get a good idea of what went on there, though, as was usual with her, she bought nothing, only inquired after the price of things.

"I met Lady Sigrid on the way here," Oin chattered on as they went back, "She recognized me from when when Bofur, the princes and I stayed back. Apparently Bard, now King of Dale, wishes to pay Erebor a visit next week."

"Why do they wait until winter?" wondered Malin, "Why can't they travel earlier?"

"He's been busy," Dwalin told Oin, "No doubt the preparations for winter were difficult this year. Don't worry Malin, trade will get going after we settle some things when the Bowman comes."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: More than Friends

As soon as they got back, Dwalin returned Malin to her office excused himself, going to look for Pearl. He called on her rooms, which was also where she conduct her tailoring business. There was a reason why he and Pearl got along, he thought - she was sensible, tough, even. She was never flirty, or air-headed, or pretentious. Serious, down-to-earth and strong as any dwarf - a true soldier.

"Come in," came a voice. Pearl looked up as Dwalin entered the room.

"Dwalin!" she exclaimed, "What brings you here?"

"Oh, just come for a chat."

"Straight from a hunting trip?" Pearl raised her eyebrows at mud that Dwalin trod all over her floor - he hadn't changed much.

"No, I took my sister to Dale to see the markets."

"Ah yes, Lady Malin. She's coming for tea with me tomorrow."

Dwalin was standing awkwardly aside, so she motioned for him to sit down opposite her. Ah, she looked just as she did when she was younger, except for the dark widows' clothes she wore now. Pearl was a seamstress and her hands were occupied with stitching a ominous black cloak.

"I didn't see you at the ball at Durin's Day."

"Widows don't always have to attend. You know I never liked dancing."

"Ah I see."

Awkward silence followed.

"Can you see your axes?" Pearl held out her hands eagerly.

Dwalin stripped them off his back and placed them in her arms, and Pearl inspected them closely.

"It has been long since I have seen them. I missed my old friends," Pearl smiled a little, "Now they are veterans of a great war."

"It was a terrible battle."

"No doubt, no doubt."

Pearl was examining the weapons, lost in the revelry of memories. Every scratch, nick or chip meant something, and she noticed many new ones. Pearl had always had had very sharp eyes.

"You came to talk about something?" Pearl sighed, looking up and handing the axes back to Dwalin.

Dwalin began to stammer.

"Well... you see... I've got to thinking lately, I've been living on my own all this while, with Balin. Now we have Malin, and its different having a sister. I'm starting to think I may be interested in getting to know some other dwarrowdams... to settle know, you know. Have a family. I'd just got to thinking about it, and it seems nice. Maybe you... maybe you could advise me?"

Pearl's jaw dropped and she looked away sharply,

"Really, now?" her voice dripped with sarcasm, "You're a fool, Dwalin. You're what, a hundred and seventy? And you're looking for a wife? Now?"

"I've never really thought of it before. Seems like a good idea now that..."

"Seriously, Dwalin," Pearl's voice choked a bit. Was she laughing at him?

Pearl continued seriously, "Dwalin, most unwed dwarrowdams are a good hundred years younger than you. Anyone in particular you're thinking of?"

Dwalin started making for the door. He felt as if he had been stung by a wasp.

"No... maybe I shouldn't have brought it up. Anyway, if you've got any suggestions..."

"Dwalin!" Pearl got up from her chair. Her mood changed suddenly.

"You innocent buffoon! You dare leave now!"

Her voice shook. _Would she tell him? Would she not? _Her indecision swung back and forth.

"You fool! You ox! You orc!"

Dwalin was bewildered, "What?"

Pearl buried her face in her hands and turned away from Dwalin so she couldn't see the tears welling in her eyes.

"Dwalin, Dwalin," she said in a low voice "You were my best friend."

"Aye," Dwalin said, "You were my best friend."

"Did you even have an idea... Maybe we could have gone together? Maybe I wanted to spend my life with the dwarrow I knew so well, with someone I understood and who understood me?"

"What are you talking about?" Dwalin asked, then stopped a moment, "You don't mean..."

His eyes widened, and then softened with regret.

"You could never take a hint, Dwalin."

"I wasn't into that... this... sort of thing then."

"And now you are?"

"But you married... you married Zri."

"Dwalin, I pined after you for years. I'm not like other girls - I couldn't bring myself to flirt or show my feelings, but that doesn't mean I'm any less... passionate. Its hard to talk about feelings. We spent hours together, and dreaming about war, battles, and reclaiming our glorious homeland with Thorin... King Thorin."

"Maybe we could have had a relationship, maybe it could have worked out."

"I was afraid that you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore, if you knew I felt that way. In the end, my parents married me off. I tried to forget you but never could. Oh Dwalin..."

"I'm so sorry," Dwalin went to her, "I never realized..."

"Do you really mean that? What do you intend to do now? Pursue some little thing half your age? What are you looking for anyway?"

"I... I don't know. Not to be alone?"

"Go away," Pearl sighed, pushing him away and making for the door.

"Pearl, listen."

"I want to be_ alone_ now." Her voice could be hard and demanding when she wanted it to be.

Dwalin's heart thudded as he left poor Pearl. He knew how poor dwarrowdams' hearts could be broken and lost, how they pined after their One... he had never expected, really, that anyone should be his One, that anyone had or would love him. Now that the idea of love presented itself to him, he had gone to Pearl. And he had found he had missed the boat. He had never heard of widows remarrying; some would consider sacrilegious. Regret filled him as he left the corridor and wandered endlessly around the lonely halls of a lonely mountain.

Condemned to be alone, that would be his fate, after completely ignoring the love of someone who adored him, and broken the heart of his best friend with his indifference. It would serve him right to die old and alone.

Pearl was left the silence of the room, and all she could do was busy her hands, trying not to think, and yet finding herself incapable of doing so.

* * *

_Author's note: _This chapter was awkward to write... I revised it like a thousand times, trying to think about the psychology and characterizations and everything... argh. Still not completely sure where this is going... but, I do like to warn ahead, so sometime in this second chunk of 14 chapters, we are going to get Malin's angsty flashback, so hopefully it will make sense and be connected to everything written so far.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: The Bookbinder

Ori ran his hand all over the brown parcel in his hand, cradling it like it was the most precious thing on earth -it was to Ori, anyway. It was the of product one year of very hard work; Ori had begun compiling the account whilst he recovered from his battle injuries. Now Fruom, the archivist from Belegost, had returned the sheaths to him carefully wrapped after Fruom had finished the work of illuminating the illustrations (his speciality). Ori was very excited to have the single inscribed copy of his historical account bound by a bookbinder - he was sending it to Grof the daughter of Bombur this very afternoon.

"Open it, Ori," Nori encouraged Ori, holding on _his _baby, "Let's see what the gilding looks like... and whether Fruom has done a job worthy of our halls of gold."

"Don't suffocate the lad," Dori chided.

Ori was between them, hugging the parcel. He took a moment to breathe deeply.

"I think... I think I shall wait until its bound," Ori finally decided, "I can't wait what it looks like in leather."

"You should get it to Grof today," Dori said, "It'll only be a short time until the anniversary."

Ori planned to present his book, his very own historical account of the quest to reclaim Erebor, to Thorin, King Under the Mountain, on the anniversary of the victory of the Battle of Five Armies. Ori had carefully written the account, based on his copious notes and illustrations, and had penned it flawlessly. He had written and drawn the final copy himself. Ori's fine, fair hand had toiled for hours over the manuscript - a scribe's apprentice would consider such a project beyond his skill, but Ori was no mere apprentice. Though young, he was accomplished beyond his years.

"I hope," sighed Nori quietly after Ori had scurried away, "Thorin doesn't take it too badly. Bad memories..."

"It he hurts Ori's feelings, the king will have me to deal with, " Dori growled, "The amount of work Ori's put into it..."

Nori grunted in reply, and returned to his papers.

"Now, where is it we are to source cinnamon from, Dori?" Nori asked.

Dori sighed. Nori was going to use his share of the treasure to start a trade in general goods, to run a store or market in order to support his growing family. It had partly been Dori's idea, but now Dori regretted it because though Nori knew where valuables, weapons and other items worth stealing could be source, and was a very good travellers, Nori hadn't the least idea about agriculture and valuation and other things to do with being a merchant.

"I don't understand, Nori!" Dori exclaimed after awhile, "Seven years of being apprenticed to a merchant, and I know about this than you do."

Nori sighed.

"I never payed attention, and the master was partially blind."

* * *

Ori hurried nervously through the halls, taking one stairway after another. He bumped into Malin.

"Is it your finished book, Ori?" Malin asked, her nose starting to sniffle. She glanced at the parcel, sensing Ori's excitement.

"Aye," Ori said "Going to send it to the bookbinder today. Did you just get back from Dale, my lady? Dwalin invited me to come, but I couldn't because.. well..._this..._"

"Aye, I understand..." said Malin, "And I can't wait to see your book, either. No one seems to want to tell me what happened during the Battle."

Ori looked downcast, "No one talks about it much... but it's an important part of history."

"I should like to know," announced Malin, "It must be a fascinating account."

"It was really interesting... such an honor to have been a part of our history, and to be the one to...to... preserve an account of it for generations to come." Ori said, with excitement running through his veins.

"All the best to you, then, Ori," Malin smiled at him as she took her leave.

"Aye..." said Ori, "Aye, my lady."

Ori scampered off, but promptly bumped into two young dwarf soldiers who were walking with Gimli.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Ori said, and bent down worriedly to pick up his parcel which he had dropped,

"Be careful!" growled Gimli at his friends.

"It is my completed account of the quest," Ori said, "Its going to be bound now."

Gimli's eyes brightened for a moment, and he picked up the parcel for Ori and handed it to him reverently,

"You did a good job, Ori," Gimli assured him, "I'm sure you did. I can't wait to read it."

"You're Ori," said one of Gimli's friends in awe, "Ori who slayed a hundred orcs? Hero of the Battle of Five Armies?"

Ori blushed.

"You can read about it in this volume when its down," he offered, "What's your name?"

"Grim, at your service."

"Dhir, at your service."

"Ori, at yours..." said Ori, who bowed as he turned to leave,

"I'll come with you, Ori?" Gimli offered, as his friends turned to leave as well.

"Thank you," said Ori, nervously, grateful for the support.

Soon Gimli and Ori had stalked up to Grof's office. She had finished her apprenticeship two years ago and was now working on restoring some damaged tomes in Erebor's library. Ori knocked.

"Come in, Ori, Gimli..." Grof smiled pleasantly,"What can I do for you?"

"Master Grim reccomends your work as bookbinder, " Ori stammered, "I've finished my volume, and would like to commission your services."

Grof's eyes brightened as Ori handed her the parcel and she opened it gingerly.

"What a privilege," she beamed, "Our history... our fathers' journey."

"My pa..." said Gimli proudly,

"My pa..." said Grof just as proudly.

They both looked at Ori, who blushed.

"Just think," Gimli said to Ori, "You're one of us, and you made history."

Grof fingered the book for awhile, and then she went over to her desk and removed a volume from the frame where it was completed.

"I'll get started on it now, if you'd like." Grof said and smiled, "You're welcome to watch."

Silently, Ori and Gimli spent several hours observing Grof prepare the leather cover, wax her stitching thread, and punch holes carefully in the folded pages of the book. She worked swiftly and confidently, and soon was weaving her needle in and out of the book, secured to her bookbinder's frame. It was very interesting, and not something a dwarf gets to see every day.

Ori's eyes had avoided looking at the manuscript, _his _manuscript as Grof punched holes in which to bind the leaves together - it would hurt him deeply, despite the fact that Grof was very, very efficiently. Instead, Ori's eyes wandered to the tomes of books on the shelves, scattered around the tables. A number of volumes looked extremely promising.

"Feel free to take a look at the books," Grof said without looking at them, "I used to deal books on the side, it brought in some extra gold... not that that's a worry now for any of us."

"Thank you, " Ori said.

Grof was in a particularly chatty mood, being that she spent so many hours either working alone or with her fourteen (or was it fifteen?) little siblings. It was nice to have an adult to take to!

"I'm so happy for all that's happened," she said, "Pa and Ma scrimped and saved for fifty years to have enough for me to train as a bookbinder, and look at us all now."

Gimli and Ori exchanged looks - they might have been in want now and again, but Bombur's family had often been in dire straits, with so many children, long hours of labor for father and mother, and cramped, poor living quarters. It can be said that no dwarf in the Blue Mountains did not know the meaning of "hard times".

* * *

Soon came time for supper, and Ori reluctantly put down the history book he was reading, and Gimli woefully relinquished a particularly fascinating adventure novel. Looking up, they saw that Grof had put down her work and was getting ready to leave for supper.

"Do dine with us," Gimli said, "In the main halls. I believe there's cabbage soup tonight."

"Aye," said Grof, laughing, her pleasant face lighting up, "I know. My pa is the cook, remember?"

So the three left Grof's office and made their way to the dining halls for supper.

"The book will be done in three days," Grof had promised as she locked the office door, "In ample time for the celebrations."

Ori rubbed his hands together in nervous anticipation, whilst Gimli led the way hurriedly, his nose leading him out of the unfamiliar section of Erebor. Grof chattered on about books whilst Ori listened and occasionally found the courage to add to the conversation. His thoughts were distracted as he anxiously imagined the company's reaction to his book. At supper, he barely paid attention and it was Gimli updated the two excited princes on the book's progress.

* * *

Author's Note: I am extremely un-inventive when it comes to dwarf names, sorry!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Dwarrowdams at Tea

Malin smiled politely across the tea-table. Pearl and Epher, two different ladies from the Blue Mountains, had come to tea. Malin made it her mission to gradually acquaint herself with just about every dwarrowdam in Erebor, which wasn't that many, really. She did realize, however, that she had made a mistake inviting Pearl and Epher at the same time - years of entertaining dwarrowdams in the Iron Hills had taught her the art of social maneuvering, and Malin knew quite well when she made a mistake.

Pearl was quiet and subdued today - she was dressed in a bright red gown that ill-reflected her pale complexion and low, subdued spirits. She smiled whenever Malin spoke to her, but when she thought no one was looking, she looked sad.

Epher was completely different. Malin knew that sort of dwarrowdam - _a social climber. _She was dressed ostentatiously, bedecked in her best jewels and in a gaudy yellow gown that showed whatever there wasn't (or wasn't) to show. She smiled at Malin and chattered on eagerly. Epher was very eager to please Malin, who, being the second highest-ranking woman in Erebor, was someone of _note. _Epher also almost completely ignored Pearl, a humble seamstress and trained soldier, the daughter of a poor blacksmith. Apparently Epher wasn't a noble, though her mother had been before she married a miner.

So Malin was playing hostess, despite being annoyed and disappointed at the same time - nnoyed with Epher's continual chatter about jewels and expensive clothes, and disappointed that she wouldn't get to know Pearl better.

"Oh, your mugs are absolutely _beautiful_, " gushed Epher, "I have never seen such pottery... handmade?"

"Aye," said Malin, "Quaint work, the art of hobbits."

"Oh, halflings..."Epher's eyes practically bulged out of her head, "How very _queer... _I heard they are elf-like folk. "

"Not at all," Pearl spoke up, "I visited the land of hobbits once, and they are _not _at all like the elves - simple, good-hearted honest folk, not sneaky or deceitful in the least."

"Nor are they really magical, I heard," said Malin, "Their love of growing things is unlike that of the elves. Hobbits mostly grow their own food."

Malin leaned forward excitedly and continued, "We are to establish trade with the Shire next spring, so a influx of hobbit goods are to be expected - the best longbottom leaf for smoking, pumpkins, grain, squashes, preserves, and many other lovely things."

"Indeed," said Epher, who was obviously uninterested, "What is this I hear about the anniversary celebrations for the battle? "

"I do," said Pearl quietly, "Widows do not have to attend."

"Quite so, quite so..." Epher smiled condescendingly, "It is not for those past the flower of youth... I dare say, it shall be quite an event!"

"I did not see you on Durin's Day, Epher?" Malin said quietly to Epher, holding in a desire to slap her for insulting Pearl.

"Ah," sighed Epher dramatically, "I was still recovering from our journey to Erebor. It takes about a month for me to _acclimatize. _I always had a _delicate _constitution, and proper dwarrowdams should hardly travel at all."

"I hear that the folk from Dale shall be coming a week before, for a diplomatic visit," Malin announced, "And that even the _elves _are to come."

Silence fell up the room as the three dwarrowdams' faces wrinkled in disbelief. Epher drew in her breath sharply, whilst Pearl's eyebrows raised.

Pearl coughed, "I really wonder..."

"Its not as if _you're _going anyway, " Epher said, and then sighed, "I may not go after all, then. Not if there are elves..."

The other two dwarrowdams silently agreed with her.

"I have no choice," Malin nodded her head with an air of reassignment, "Duty calls."

"The princess Dis may not attend," Epher said, "She does not hold the company of elves."

"The princess Dis," said Pearl, whom Malin knew was a great friend of the princess, "Does not do only as she chooses, but makes _sacrifices_ for the honor of the kingdom."

"No doubt it pains us all that we owe the _elves _our gratitude," Malin said through gritted teeth, "Though I really wonder how much is truly due."


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Dear readers, yes the last chapter was a little cliche, wasn't it? I tried to find a TV trope for it, it couldn't. I just thought it would be fun to slip in some anti-elvish xenophobia... lol.

Anyway, to continue with the story... As per suggestion, I changed the ending of an chapter 17 a little, so if you read that, this chapter should make a bit more sense.

**Chapter 20: New Suit of Clothes**

"Come in," Pearl said. It was a busy day. Thankfully, she had been completely overwhelmed by a new flurry of demands, mostly for repairing of old ceremonial and formal clothes for the upcoming celebrations. Quiet a few dwarves required their clothes to be fixed after mishaps at the Durin's Day ball, and Pearl had to send away many customers who had yet to launder their clothes after Durin's Day, clothes that smelt absolutely putrid and were covered with unidentifiable stains.

It was getting a little boring and repetitious, though. Pearl was hoping for some intricate sewing to do; when work got boring, thoughts tended to linger in her head, thoughts she wanted to avoid.

__Still, Pearl was busy enough not to have to attend social engagements, or even dine in the main halls. In fact, she had been quite shut up in her rooms except for the occasional customers. No one thought it odd - being reclusive was neither odd for seamstresses or widows.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

Pearl was frowning, wearing thick glasses and bending over some small seam she was making.

"Dori, at your service."

"Pearl, at yours. Welcome. How may I be of service to you?"

Dori stepped in, glancing at her. In the year since he had seen her last in the Blue Mountains, she had not changed. Her husband had been a second cousin of Dori's. Pearl always had had good looks - a lovely rosy complexion, satisfying plumpness, large eyes, and so forth. But she had a lingering fierceness and curtness about her that made people respect her and stay mostly out of her way. Down her left cheek, an ugly, wide brown scar lingered from her old days as a fighter.

"I came to see an old friend."

"I was never one for small talk, Dori." Pearl smiled a little as she said this.

Dori smiled back, and replied, "I won't waste your time. I was wondering if you're still in business... but now I see that is obviously true. I took Ori's measurements, seeing as he's busy, and came to see if I can order a nice new suit of clothes for him."

"How nice? Formal? Ceremonial?" Pearl pursed up her lips, then added, "I'd take the measurements myself, thank you. You can send Ori down here tomorrow afternoon right after a quick midday meal to get his measurements taken. I won't take long."

"Aye," Dori said, "Fine with me. Though you'd know by now I was a seamstress... sew-er... well I used to make our clothes ourselves. Now I don't have the time and all. Ori needs a good, decent pair of clothes. Comfortable, warm, formal. In purple -that's our color."

Pearl set aside her work and stood up. Walking to her desk as Dori spoke, she picked up a scrap of paper. She found her quill, dipped it in the inkstand and scribbled as he wrote.

"Right." Pearl said when she put her pen down, finished with taking down Dori's instructions.

"And I brought you a little something," Dori added, "Supplies of luxuries are low... I thought you'd like this."

He held out a fairly large wooden box, filled with longbottom leaf from the Shire, the best there was to be had. In fact, it was from his special stash.

"I can't," said Pearl, shaking her head gently, "It's too much."

"Pshaw!" Dori snorted, "A gift from an old friend. And you're invited for tea with my brothers and I, tomorrow. You haven't come to see Nori's baby yet. Please say you will come..."

Pearl smiled, "Well, I've been busy. Yes, I think I shall come tomorrow. I heard all about Lallek - she was my brother's child, you know, but since my brother and I... fell out... I haven't seen her."

"You're family, Pearl." Dori reminded her as he left, "Don't forget you have us. And I'll be getting seed cake for tea tomorrow."

The door closed behind Dori and Pearl settled to her work. Yes, a diversion will be good for her. She didn't except to see anyone that she didn't want to see there, anyway... and she did so love seed cake.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Visitors from Dale

"Why me?" Malin grumbled to herself as Ale laced her into a gown, "Why not Dis?"

She knew the answer. Dis was not inclined to make herself available to entertain guests, especially not Men. King Bard was arriving today with his son and daughters, and Thorin had ordered that Malin, ranked as the second highest dwarrowdam in Erebor, entertain the Ladies Sigrid and Tilda to make them feel welcome.

Ale continued to tug at the laces, and Malin inhaled with practiced efficiency. Malin usually wore more practical clothes, but years of attending court in the Iron Hills had accustomed her to the rigours of formal dwarven dressing.

Balin had not consulted her and simply commissioned a wardrobe of new winter clothes for Malin, who frowned at the extravagance.

"Being of rank has its disadvantages," sighed Malin, "Am I to be robed in the garb of the Blue Mountains as well?"

The differences between the fashions of the Iron Hills and the Blue Mountains were indistinguishable to a casual observer, but most dwarves could see the difference. And there was the issue of "Erebor" fashions - it had been almost a hundred years since Erebor was populated, and Dis had commissioned seamstresses to come up with a distinct, updated style for ladies of Erebor, so Malin was obliged to have her wardrobe changed, at least for certain occasions, today being one of them.

"They're very young lasses," Balin had said, "Lost their mother when the youngest was born. Sigrid is a very pretty maid, and took very good care of us, especially the princes, when we first came here. Those were hard times, Malin... hard times."

Malin was going to greet the entourage and escort the young ladies during their stay. She had been summoned by the king to his office, accompanied by Dwalin, receiving strict instructions from Thorin, with Balin adding in things to remember.

Thorin's instructions were mostly, "Don't discuss this, don't discuss that" (mainly to do with the gold.) Also Malin was told very firmly not to bring them anywhere where they might get scratched, burnt or hurt in any way. In fact, Malin would have to be with them practically the whole time lest they get injured or lost, and the uneasy peace between Erebor and Dale be jeopardized.

"Men are just like dwarves when protecting their dwarrowdams... women..." Thorin had growled. He was not looking forward to a week of tense negotiations with Bard.

Balin's advice was on what he thought the young ladies might like to see. Unfortunately Balin was clueless as to the interests of women.

"Really," sniggered Malin to herself, "Take them to see the water supply pipe system... how fascinating."

A throng of dwarves gathered at the front gates to meet Bard and and his company. Malin thought little of Bard - he was tall and lean, and his beard was short. Malin had had little occasion to interact with Men before, let alone with their women. Her focus immediately turned to the two young ladies.

"No ladies' maid? No chaperone?" thought Malin quizzically as she observed them get down from their horses.

She emerged from the crowd of male dwarves and approached Sigrid and Tilda, bowing. Two dwarf maids followed behind, ready to help with the luggage.

"Malin, daughter of Fundin, at your service," Malin bowed, "Welcome to Erebor."

The maids hurried forwards to bow and take one knapsack each from the girls, which was a very small pack for a week's stay.

Sigrid was tall, double Malin's height. She wore a long brown coat and a plain, sky-blue dress below. Tilda was in a grey frock with a brown pinafore. Malin marveled at their foreign clothes, peasant-like in simplicity.

"A dwarf woman?" gasped Tilda, who received a nudge from her sister before bowing and politely introducing herself as Sigrid did.

"I've never seen one before," Tilda remarked loudly to Sigrid, "Look at their beards!"

Malin smiled proudly, "Aye, we're very proud of our hair. Now if you please, I'll guide you to your rooms."

Sigrid was silent, quietly marveling at the beauty of Erebor, but Tilda lacked her timidity,, chattering on as a child would.

"Are you a princess?" she asked Malin,

"No," Malin laughed, "We have one princess, the lady Dis."

"What does she look like?"

"Like the king, Thorin,"

"Very like, or just a little like?"

"I would supposed as much as you look like your brother, little one."

"Bain and I look nothing alike!"

"Aren't you a princess?"

"No, I'm a lady, but just a little lady, because I'm not a proper lady like Sigrid."

"What's the difference between a little lady and a proper one?"

"Sigrid is old enough to court, and I'm not."

"Tilda!" Sigrid chided, her cheeks flaming,"Don't pester the lady... Nalin?"

"Malin," Malin said, "Sister of Balin and Dwalin. They stayed at your house."

"The white dwarf with the red coat is your brother, Lord Balin, isn't he?" Tilda was interested, "He visited us in the new city - he brought toys!"

Tilda continued chatting excitedly on.

"Do you know? We used to live in a shack, and Sigrid had to cook and clean. But now the dwarves brought us luck and we live in a big, pretty house and we have servants."

"Some luck," thought Sigrid, "Our homes destroyed and half our people dead."

Malin said little until they neared the place where the girls were staying,

"You're going to have a lovely princess's holiday here," she told the girls, "We have gifts for you and at the end of the week you'll attend the Grand Dinner Celebration. You're pa will be very busy meanwhile, so I get to take the two of you around."

"Thank you, lady Malin," Sigrid said at the door, "I'm a little tired..."

"The servants will bring lunch in an hour," Malin said quickly, "Do get some rest."

"Oh please, Sigrid," Tilda begged, "Isn't the dwarf lady staying?"

"We're sorry to take up so much of your time during our stay here," Sigrid looked ashamedly at Malin,

"No bother at all," Malin insisted, "We dwarves are very proud of our mountain. It's my job to entertain visitors. Do let the maids settle you in, and I'll show you the way around. The beds are the longest we have - as you can see, they might be a little short."


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note: So here's an alternate ending I thought up for the BOFa and the agreements between Dale and Erebor. I suppose we could debate long and hard about its practicality or feasibility, and I myself don't think this is the superlatively best solution...I'm not completely satisfied with it yet..._

**Chapter 22: A Long Afternoon**

Balin did most of the talking for the dwarves - he usually did. Thorin was trying his level best not to argue with Bard or say anything clumsy or unpleasant- Mahal knows that they still didn't see eye to eye. Dwalin merely crossed his arms, waited impatiently for the meeting to end, and stared (unconsciously) menacingly at Bard, King of Dale. Bard was accompanied by Bain, who had grown tall and gangly, was cutting an imposing figure in the eyes of the dwarves , though he was thin and not very strong or wide. Bain was _terribly _bored, but instead of twiddling his thumbs, he did his level best to look like he was following the discussions.

"Its been one year," said Bard, "The agreement was that the Kingdom of Dale retain its temporary guardianship of the Arkenstone until the calculations have been made and the first payment of the fourteenth of the gold of the mountain be given to the Kingdom of Dale by the Kingdom of Erebor."

"Aye, " said Balin, remembering the hasty contract that he had drawn up to keep the Arkenstone safely away from Thorin for a full year and to appease and make peace with the men of Dale, "And a summary-inventory has been painstakingly made. Here is the detailed list of our payments to the city... _Kingdom_ of Dale for the next ten years in full repayment of our debt."

He produced the document and handed it to Bard, who pondered it carefully for a great length of time.

"Aye," said Bard finally, "It is a deal then. On the anniversary of the battle, the Kingdom of Erebor will hand to us the first of twenty-five shipments of gold, and we will return the Arkenstone."

"The word of dwarves can be bound and agreed upon," Thorin tried to say in an assuring and friendly manner, "We will keep our oaths. We will not betray our friends."

"In the meanwhile," said Balin, "As according to the agreement, an allocated portion of Erebor's yearly income (reduced with each successive payment) and a discount in trade prices will tide the city of Dale by until all the gold is awarded."

"A share in the wealth of the mountain, eh?" Bard smiled at Thorin, who nodded and smiled wordlessly.

They both stood at this moment and reached across the table to shake each other's hands - Thorin, King of Erebor, and Bard, King of Dale.

Bard had been concerned about gold-corruption and also ensuring economic stability in Dale. The successive payments would allow Dale to be rebuilt, and to gain prosperity without being swamped with gold they would be tempted to misuse. He felt, in good and honest faith, that the kingdoms of Erebor and Dale would be able to work together with mutual trust, cooperation and protection. The investment of the dwarves of Erebor in the Dale economy had been extremely generous, and he himself saw that in these times of plenty, the once-impoverished families of Dale now lived in prosperity, able to earn and profit from their livelihoods, to live in warm and large dwellings, to be clothed with suitably warm clothes, and to be sufficiently, and more than that, luxuriously fed. Living conditions were so much better, and now children were plump and rosy-cheeked. Truth to be told, that was what Bard wanted - not to build for himself a large and ornate house and be doted on by servants, but to share whatever the city earned with the hardworking people themselves.

Balin had been concerned about gold-corruption as well, and Thorin's obsession with the Arkenstone which, now, thankfully had been cured by means only he, Gloin, and Dwalin knew, and would not disclose for a great many years. Now the heart of the mountain would be returned to it, and, truth to be told, Thorin scarcely cared. Balin was looking forward to seeing Malin - now that the lands surrounding Dale had begun to cultivated, the dwarves of Erebor would not lack for food in time to come, nor trade. Trade would surely be established, and Balin knew Malin would want a part in seeing that come to pass.

* * *

Meanwhile, lunch had arrived promptly for the ladies - a rich, hearty pot roast with potatoes, soft white bread, a selection of cheese, pudding, various sweet pastries for dessert, and _ale. _

"What is that?" Tilda tasted her cup, "It' goes up my nose, the smell."

Sigrid tasted hers gingerly and gasped, "Tilda!". She reached over and took Tilda's cup from her disapprovingly.

"Oh dear," Malin said, taking a sip, "I told them specifically - no ale. I'm so sorry."

"Do dwarf children take strong drink?" Sigrid asked quietly, astonishment in her voice,

"Yes," said Malin, "The minute they leave off mother's milk, they start on light ale. It's safer than water."

"Why is that?" Tilda wanted to know,

"We don't always have a good water supply. Children are very precious to us, and we don't want them to get poisoned. Our water holes were often poisoned..."

"Who would want to poison children?" Tilda gasped. Sigrid looked pensive.

"A lot of people would want to poison dwarves," sighed Malin,

"I don't see why," Tilda announced, "You bring good luck."

Malin smiled, and said, "Well, I wish to Mahal that were the case with everyone."

"It's true," said Tilda innocently, "Look at all your wonderful good luck!"

"Not all dwarves will believe you," Malin smiled at her and said gently, "Thorin, King under the Mountain, long-may-he-live, for one."

"Why?" Tilda wanted to know,

"Dwarves seems to suffer more than any other people," Malin sighed, "Or so our history books seem. Things never end well, even for good dwarves. Reclaiming Erebor has been the greatest piece of luck we've had in a hundred years - even that came as a great cost. And we're not well-liked."

"I heard dwarves keep lots of secrets," said Tilda,

"Aye," Malin smiled, "We guard our language, our history, even our names with great zeal."

* * *

Though the midday meal was a sumptuous affair, neither men or dwarves took much enjoyment of it. It was very quiet, and that is saying a lot for dwarves.

Fili, Kili and Gimli now joined the second part of the meeting, most of it now being a thorough line-by-line reading of the contractual agreements and treaties between Erebor and Dale (which were in many parts and elaborated in great detail). Bard's adviser, a wise solicitor well-read and well-versed in legal agreements, an greyed and honest man, sat beside him and interjected to clarify many points. He was a very pleasant fellow, very thoughtful and detailed, which ingratiated him to Balin instantly, making the exchange actually _enjoyable. _Most words passed between Balin and the man, Giard, whilst the rest of the attendees tried their best to concentrate and contribute. Dinner just wouldn't come soon enough.

The young dwarrows had completed their day's training in the morning. Gimli scowled - since coming to Erebor, his life had changed. Quite recently, Gloin and Balin had agreed that since Gimli was the youngest member of the Longbeard line and succession, it would do him well to be educated in the same manner as Fili and Kili, if anything, he would be able to be a great help in ruling the kingdom in days to come. So now, Gimli reluctantly only had _half _a day of warrior training, spending many days learning about history, diplomacy, politics, economy, commerce, and a hundred other things of importance, not that he complained. It could never be said that Gimli was "all brawn and no brain", in fact, he had a quick and energetic mind and would make a good ruler, had he been crown prince.

After several hours, the meeting drew to a close and all, even Balin and Giard, passed a collective sigh of relief. Tomorrow and its planned itinerary would be something to look forward to.


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note: SO yes, Sigrid isn't 7 feet tall and above, even if Malin is one of the shortest dwarves... it doesn't come to double the height. Ha... a miscalculation.

Anyhoo, *warning* this chapter has to do with Sigrid's "monthly" grumbles. It's kinda short today... more to come!

**Chapter 23: Getting Some Rest**

Sigrid screwed up her face. No, she did not want to get out of bed. True, the dwarven kingdom was fascinating, but she just didn't want to get out of bed. She glanced and saw that Tilda was still fast asleep. It must be about six in the morning.

Under the covers, Sigrid tentatively touched her abdomen under her nightdress. The soreness and cramped feeling was still there. She didn't feel like moving, because the entire night her legs had felt like jelly - Sigrid had hardly ever ridden on a horse before, and the long ride yesterday and the day before... well, even soreness from scrubbing floors didn't compare to the ache she had. It had gotten worse overnight as well.

Much to Sigrid's annoyance, Tilda was soon jumping out of bed and scampering around the room, pleading to be dressed.

Sigrid pulled herself out of bed, glad that she didn't stain the sheet. Oh, she hated this time of the month. In fact, she hated _everything_ this time of the month.

Sigrid dressed Tilda, gently replying to her banter, and then splashed cold water on her face and dressed herself whilst Tilda picked up a book and began to read excitedly, out loud.

A knock sounded at the door and Tilda opened it to find a blond dwarf maid waiting.

"If you please, milady," the maid said, "Shall we bring breakfast up?"

"Yes please, yes please!" Tilda gushed eagerly,

"Oh, " exclaimed Tilda, "I can't wait to see Erebor! The great dwarf kingdom! Mines! Gold!"

Sigrid smiled and sat down on a chair.

Soon the maid brought breakfast and Malin came too. One look at Sigrid, Malin produced a fascinating clockwork toy from her pocket for Tilda to amuse her, and took Sigrid's arm. Taking to a bench, Malin let Sigrid sit down.

"Are you feeling well? There's no need to be polite, Sigrid. Dwarf women are dreadfully open are these things."

"It's that time of the month again," sighed Sigrid, "And horseback riding does not help."

Malin motioned for the maid to bring a cup of tea, and made Sigrid drink it down.

"I will take Tilda around today," Malin offered, "You should have a nice warm bath. You can rest, drink some herb tea, read, and do whatever you like here. We'll come back at lunch and see if you're feeling better. The seamstress will pop in after lunch to get measurements... You're alright, Sigrid. Nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. Do you need any linen?"

"I have enough, thank you." Sigrid looked grateful.

So Malin had breakfast with the two young ladies, and offered to take Tilda around.

"Your sister needs rest," said Malin, "How would you like to walk around Erebor today?"

Malin took Tilda by the hand, and together they roamed Erebor. Tilda gasped at the libraries, gaped at the throne room, exclaimed at the great kings of carven stone, and the high-ceiling, majestic halls. The highlight was perhaps when Malin took Tilda walking over the walkway that overlooked part of the mining operation and the gold-forges. Great carts that hung on chains came rolling out of the mines, carrying rough uncut jewels. Tilda observed the jewel-cutters at work, as quiet as she could be - she had never seen such riches in her life.

"The Lonely Mountain is lovely," Tilda said, "It's so beautiful.I've never seen anything so grand in all my life!"

Malin enjoyed watching her bright eyes take in all the new sights in awe - it made Malin see Erebor in a new, beautiful light. Truth to be told, it was a shameful truth that despite being in Erebor for quite a few months, Malin had not given the architecture of the Lonely Mountain a second thought at all. She had not wanted to like being here, not wanted to feel like this was home. But, somehow, deep inside, Malin felt at home here now. In the Iron Hills, she had had friends and she had had work, but she did become closed up because of the past, her way of life constricted. In Erebor, she felt like a new life had begun, that it wasn't too late for her, that she was now free.

"Tilda, you must be part dwarf," Malin laughed, "I've never seen much of Menfolk, but from what I do know, they aren't overly fond of dark dwarf mines and stone halls."

"Truthfully," said Tilda, "I love the stone. The rocks, the echoing halls, the deep mines, the fiery forges. I think that its so exciting to be deep inside a mountain."

Malin smiled, "Aye, we all do, down here."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Meals and More**

Malin had Tilda in one arm and Sigrid in the other. She was taking them to have their midday meal with the Princess Dis in her reception room. Tilda was quiet and subdued, while Sigrid was looking much better, thanks to a long, hot bath and several mugfuls of dwarf medicinal tea.

Malin led them through the numerous stone corridors and halls, torch in hand. They stopped before an ornate iron double-door, and Malin lifted her hand and knocked lightly on the locker once.

"Remember," Malin said hurriedly, "Remember to greet her and curtsey."

A maid opened the door. Malin stepped in and bowed low. She then introduced Tilda and Sigrid as "Sigrid and Tilda, ladies of Esgaroth."

They stepped in as they were introduced and curtsey. Dis walked towards them and curtseyed as well.

"Sigrid" began Sigrid,

"And Tilda," began Tilda,

"Ladies of Esgaroth," they continued in unison, "At your service."

"Dis, Princess of Erebor, at yours."

Malin heaved a sigh of relief.

Dis came forward and took Sigrid's hand, and led them to the dining table where a scrumptious meal was laid out, the highlight of which was a tiny, roasted piglet.

Malin go to observe Dis over the meal - she was friendly, kind, and altogether very cordial and diplomatic. Sigrid and Tilda _were _quiet, and spoke when spoken too. Sigrid kept looking at Dis curiously, and back and forth between Dis and Malin. Obviously she was trying to decide what were features that belonged to dwarrowdams in general. Dis was very regal, with a fine, stern brow, elaborately adorned black hair, and a very royal nose. Malin was quite the contrast - she had brown hair, plainly styled but still still framing her pleasant, kindly, round face. Malin had an odd nose, just like Balin's. Malin could be funny, grumpy, even fierce, but she could not be majestic. Dis just _effortlessly _conveyed pride, power and status, and was rather intimidating even when cordial.

When the meal was over, Dis and Sigrid took tea, sitting in a corner and talking. Tilda and Malin had ventured, on Dis's invitation, to take in the view on Dis's personal balcony.

The wind blew on Tilda's face as she took in the sight of the lands surrounding Erebor. On this side of the mountain, she could not see Dale, Esgaroth or the lake. Rather, the balcony offered a look at the plains surrounding the Lonely Mountain and the Elven realm of Mirkwood in the distance.

"There's the elven realm," Malin pointed out, "Far in the distance."

"Have you been there, Lady Malin?"

"No, Lady Tilda, I have not."

"It's funny when you call me that!"

"Then you mustn't call me "lady" either..." Malin laughed, "Do you wish to see the elves and visit their realm?"

"Not so much," Tilda said, "I really want to come here, to see the Lonely Mountain. It is just as the legends describe."

"So no desire to behold the beauty of the elven king?"

"No," said Tilda honestly, "I think dwarves are more interesting."

Meanwhile, Sigrid and Dis had become quite firm friends, having bonded over discussions of their positions, the conversation moving on from the "weather" and "food" and other topics of polite conversation.

"It _is _hard," agreed Sigrid, "I scarcely know what to do, finding myself in this position."

"You need to be more confident in your position, Sigrid, hold your head up high," Dis commented, then said, "Let me take a good look at you in the light..."

Sigrid obliged,

"You are very handsome," Dis said, "And strong, and dutiful. No doubt a good match will be made."

"I hope not," Sigrid sighed, "Not soon, anyway."

"No doubt your father's kingdom will grow in power and strength, and the lords and princes of men will come seeking a bride..."

"It is expected," Sigrid said woefully, "But I hope father will not ask me to go far away. Bain and Tilda, well, Bain not so much an more... Tilda needs me still."

"Do you not want your own happiness, Sigrid?" Dis asked, "My own desire in my youth was so spend my like with my dear dwarrow. He died very quickly..."

"Oh I'm sorry."

Sigrid was quiet for awhile and looked down. She felt Dis looking at her, so she said,

"But I do not know what I want - all I ever wanted was for our family to have enough food and enough clothes, and now I do not know what I want, or what _to _want."

"Perhaps you are interested in a craft? In apprenticeship?"

"Not politics," said Sigrid, and Dis nodded sympathetically in reply, "I would like to learn more about agriculture, the growing of things... of food... the planting of fields. It is very interesting... useful..."

"That is very practical," agreed Dis, "In my youth I learned the art of war, of trade, and many other things of the wisdom of dwarves. For the children of Men, agriculture is extremely important. It is foreseen that Esgaroth shall till much land and abound with food... "

"I help papa, sometimes..."

Malin and Tilda then returned from the balcony.

"My apologies, my princess," said Malin, bowing, "I believe the seamstress is expecting the ladies of Esgaroth soon."

"Aye," said Dis, standing up, "Fare well, ladies."

Sigrid and Tilda expressed their thanks, and Dis had then escorted out of her quarters. Dis didn't like long visits, and was thankful, even though this visit really wasn't too bad; in fact, it had been quite enjoyable. Still, she was glad that Malin did most of the entertaining.


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, Borys68 and sarah0406v(Yup - I decided to make Sigrid and Dis closer friends, because Dis might be a nice maternal influence as well as a guide to help Sigrid understand noble life a little more). I'm sorry this chapter is a little late :) On another note, I find that I like comparing Dwalin and Balin's role to that of the hand of the king, Ned Stark in GOT.

Chapter 25: A Stitch in Time

Tilda was gaping at the samples of material. Sigrid fingered the fabrics and smiled, which Malin was glad to see her do. The apprentice, Hidi, even showed them sketches of dwarven fashions, which interested and fascinated both girls because to them they were foreign and exotic, as well as being fancier and more expensive anything they had ever had.

When all was done, Tilda wanted to visit the North Walkway above the forges again, to show what they were like to Sigird.

Over the deafening clamor (for, unlike Tilda's earlier visit, the forges and mines were now running at full force) Tilda pointed out the forges, the carts that ran on intricate pulleys, the amazing gears and mechanisms, the large hammers and anvils of dwarf design. Sigrid found the whole spectacle very distracting and loud, and Tilda was a little chagrinned that her sister did not find as much pleasure in it as she did.

The water-powered turbines whizzed to a stop after awhile, and work began to slow down. Many were leaving work early today to attend the afternoon archery matches.

Finally it was time to go to the training arena to watch the dwarves and Men compete. They arrived a little late, so Malin had to fight through the crowd to get to the front benches. Dis was there too, and soon Sigrid and Tilda watched with Dis from the sidelines whilst Malin slipped away, having seen Lallek and Nori.

"Malin!" Lallek exclaimed and embraced her, "I haven't seen you in ages..."

"Lallek, " Malin smiled affectionately, "It is good to see you. I wanted to give you some space to rest awhile, before my brothers and I descend upon your family."

"It is no trouble," Lallek laughed, "Even though I know nothing of babies, Dori does. He's watching our little one now, and Nori promised to take me out for a little excursion... What fun!"

Malin was not paying attention to the atheletics, but Lallek apparently was, so Malin sat next to her, with Nori on Lallek's other side, and

"I heard about the last time you were here," Lallek said, and then giggled, blushing.

_It is good that she can laugh about the matter, _Malin thought, pleased.

"Aye..." Malin replied, then asked, "How is Nori's business? I hear the shop is to open soon!"

"I look forward to it," Lallek smiled, "Though in all the excitement for Ori's book, Nori has conveniently left off the business for a few days... I don't nag him... do I, love?"

"What? No..." Nori didn't look like he was listening, but Malin knew he was known for having sharp ears.

"Malin!" Ghiza tapped her shoulder from behind.

_Ghiza? Come to see to the matches? _Malin turned around and embraced her. Ghiza was never overfond of the training arena.

"Even if I came to watch," Ghiza would tell Malin, "Gloin cannot stop from retelling to me every detail of Gimli's successes."

Ah, Gimli was a lad to be proud of, very proud of indeed.

Strangely, Gloin wasn't here. He and Gimli were together attending to some matter for tonight's small banquet, Ghiza informed Malin. Instead, Ghiza was here with Oin, who smiled pleasantly and nodded at Malin. Unfornately, Iga wasn't here - even with all the new kitchen apprentices, she and Bombur were always tied up in the kitchen. Balin felt that a member of the Company should be treated better, but Bombur always took great pride in his work

Malin glanced at the arena - Bain was up against Thorin, who decided to join the match in a show of good faith. He was actually not bad at archery, and Bain and Thorin were closely tied. Arrows whizzed to the targets with stunning accuracy as the crowd cheered.

Malin's eyes wandered from the game to the front seats, where she saw Sigrid and Tilda sitting alone. Things had gotten louder and rowdier in the crowd as the tie between Thorin and Bain had persisted.

Then Malin noticed that Dis had walked over to speak to Kili at the side lines. Malin got up to move to where the girls were, but Ghiza suddenly pulled Malin aside and began to ask about something... Malin wasn't listening. In a couple of seconds, she had excused herself and started pushing her way through the crowd, then a gasp was heard.

The match paused temporarily.

Malin pushed her way in front, and the first thing she saw was Sigrid, fallen over, on her hands and knees in front of her seat. Apparently some overexcited members of the crowd had started throwing various articles like boots and beer-mugs in front, and Sigrid had gotten hit.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sigrid protested as she got up.

All sounds stopped as Thorin immediately stalked over, helped her up, and then roared,

"No more throwing things!"

Silence fell.

Bard came to sit by his daughters just as Malin came up front and joined the girls. Dis hurried over as well and took a look at Sigrid's head. Apparently there were no bruises, and no real harm had been done, so the games continued. Thorin cast one contemptuous glance at Malin and stalked back to continue his shot. He drew back his bow and sent arrow after arrow flying swiftly and flawlessly

Bard took his daughters back to their rooms after the game, Dis following them to make sure everything was alright. Helplessly, Malin watched them leave before Dwalin swiftly grabbed her and pulled her oneside.

"Thorin is going to be furious," Dwalin hissed,

"I'm so sorry," said Malin, "I was wrong to leave them alone. Dis..."

"Dis was not charged with watching them, you were."

"I have failed brother, I know." Malin's voice was low and she looked at the ground.

"Come."

Dwalin was taking her out of the arena. Balin followed.

Malin found herself walking up to Thorin's office.

"Your fool of a sister!" Thorin raged, "Disobeying my instructions and letting Bard's child get hit!"

This shelling really hurt, and it wasn't even Malin's fault. However, what hurt her the most was that the king did not even address her or look at her. He was ranting at Balin, who looked so woebegone and bitten that Malin felt she had rather take the king's verbal blows herself than have her brother be at the biting end. What hurt her equally as much was that Dwalin, with whom she had grown closer and really wanted to please, was now really, really mad at her and looked ready to disown his sister for crossing the king.

"Forgive me, my king," Malin was on her knees, "But it was not my Lord Balin's fault. Let the blame be entirely mine."

Thorin said nothing. After a nothing he waved his hand to dismiss Malin, and Dwalin pulled her out of the room.

"Go to the ladies now," said Dwalin, "Your duties are not over. Be more careful."

"Aye," said Malin, turning away and walking off. She dreaded going back to the girls.

_I hate Erebor, _she thought. _It wasn't even a big mistake. Sigrid didn't even get hurt. I don't see why the king is so angry with me. It's so unfair - I hate this stinking mountain. I wish I never came here. Sigrid was supposed to be with Dis. Even if I was next to her, how could I have stopped her getting hit? It makes no sense! _


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note: sassygirl9811, I wrote the chapter that way because in the movies, it seems like Thorin is really grouchy, and now that *spoiler* I'm going to write the king as increasingly bad-tempered and depressed, *spoiler end*, I want him to be really irritable at the slightest thing and quick to use people as a punching bag. In this case, Malin is the scapegoat. Behind the scenes, Balin, Dwalin, Ori, Gloin - they've all been getting pretty worried because they've been at the receiving end of most of this,

Btw, I realized that I've hardly written about Bofur at all, so now I'm going to have him upcoming chapters. Anyone else you guys want included?

**Chapter 26: Not Alone**

It wasn't a big deal - it really wasn't. After a couple minutes of wandering around the halls in a worked-up state of misery, Malin had calmed down. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and dug deep to the place where she always found strength and calm.

Malin, of all people, knew how to keep calm in the worst of trials. She had plenty of practice before, and that was a far greater trouble than this. In fact, she wasn't even going to let herself be torn apart just because the king was disproportionately mad with her. for something that rightfully wasn't her fault. She braced her shoulders, walked on, and acted like nothing happened.

_The last time... _Malin suddenly shuddered. She knew the worst would be tonight, tonight when all the busyness and activity had faded, when she would be left alone to confront memories. She momentarily crumbled, her spirit crushed as she realized with desperation... _I cannot be alone tonight. _Tonight, there would be no Dena, no Dlysi to hold her when she cried, calm her when the nightmares started coming again, relieve her when the memories overpowered her and she thought back on...

Malin refused to allow herself to think of that now. She bit her lip and stormed to the guest rooms.

* * *

Sigrid looked up to see a calm and collected Malin enter the room.

"Do you feel up to attending dinner tonight?" Malin asked,

"Yes," said Sigrid, "I actually feel a lot better now than this morning. Tilda has gone off..."

"Where?"

Malin slapped herself mentally. That came out as too forceful, to panicked. It wouldn't do to overreact. Anyway, Sigrid didn't notice.

"Da and Tilda went to see the mines with Mr. Bofur..."

"That's awfully dangerous..." Malin _wanted _to say, but she let Sigrid finish her sentence.

"Should be alright," said Sigrid as if to herself, "Mr. Bofur stayed in our home before the dragon came. Gets on real well with Da."

Malin smiled. Of course, how could she forget.

Sigrid wanted to take a nap before dinner, and Malin went away, knowing that she would not be needed that night any more. She sat on a bench in a quiet corridor - despite all that had happened in the past, she was not afraid of being alone (she never failed to have her daggers, however). No, she relished finding quiet, lonely places because she felt, somehow, calm and at peace.

"Who will I go to?" Malin thought, if but a little frantically, "I need help. I may have a panic attack tonight.. I know I will, and I'm out of the herb tonic. I need someone I can trust, someone who won't ask questions."

Malin didn't want to explain her past to anybody. She didn't want prying questions. She just wanted to feel safe, but Ghiza wasn't alone. Dis was... fearsome. Balin and Dwalin, well, they didn't have room in their quarters, and would not be able to put Malin up for the night... and she didn't want them to know she was having recurrent nightmares... which would set them on the path of trying to find out... _what happened._

Malin gulped_._

_Elekh. _The healer. She was someone Malin could go to.

_What will I say to her? _Malin's deliberations continued but soon she worked out a little speech.

_Elekh, I need your help. I can't have you ask questions... I can't answer questions right now. But I really need your felt. I fear I'm going to have another panic attack... no... disturbance tonight. I'm really tired, and when I get tired... I... I... really need you. I can't be alone. Please. I came to you because I know I can trust you. _

Malin was heading to Elekh's quarters.

* * *

Elekh listened to Malin and saw distress surface in her eyes, distress Malin was usually expert in concealing. Malin was someone truly alone - how could she go to her brothers whom she scarcely knew?

"Let me stay at your place tonight," Elekh said, "You'll feel better in your own place and not unfamiliar rooms... I'll sleep with you and fix you some lumberberry tonic."

"Oh," Malin said in relief, "That's just what I need..."

Elekh quickly packed an overnight bag and together they headed to Malin's quarters.

"Lady Malin, " Elekh said firmly yet apologetically as she watched Malin gulp down the entire, bitter tonic in one gulp, "I feel I need to ask... as a healer..."

"Call me Malin."

"I can't, I just can't. No matter how I try, it feels so wrong to address you... disrespectfully."

Malin sighed and pushed the empty mug away.

"If you must know, I take it a lot." Malin sighed again, "

"Don't you know what it does... if taken too much of?"

"I know, of course I know," Malin said in a controlled voice.

"It's addictive, Malin," Elekh tried to warn,

"Don't think I don't know..."

"I can't bury myself in drink," Malin protested, "I need something that won't turn me into a disrespectable vagrant. I take about one mugful a day, usually. If I stop, I get sick. If I need it, I take more."

"And how long?"

"Twenty years."

Elekh shook her head.

"No one knows?"

"Not even my bosom friends... I don't even think about it any more..."

Malin was pressing her hands on her forehead, feeling her head throb.

"You're not going to dinner tonight, I think." Elekh said firmly, "You need rest."

"I could hardly be expected to, after what happened today, neither Dwalin nor Balin nor long-may-he-live, the king, will expect me to show up."

"I won't asked what happened," Elekh said,

"Thank you..."

* * *

Later that night, Elekh and Malin were snuggled up in bed. Elekh was studying a tome on healing and Malin was listening to her recite in her beautiful, clear voice the uses of various herbs.

"Its so nice to have someone to talk to." Elekh said pleasantly, "Someone to listen to me ramble on about herbs."

"I like it, its soothing, your voice."

"That's what my patients tell me. Most of the time, I'm too soft for Oin."

Malin shifted and tossed a little - she was feeling quite well. Then Malin felt a rush of guilt, and she pushed herself up and turned

"Wait a second," Malin gasped, "I thought the prince invited you for dinner tonight?"

Elekh was quiet. Indeed, she had had an invitation not from the prince but from the lady Dis to sit at the royal table, no doubt next to her and the prince...

"When you were changing, I sent a note through Ale to decline," Elekh said, "I said I'm needed, I didn't say why. It's part of being a healer..."

"I'm sorry," Malin shook her head, "I'm so selfish."

"Nonsense," Elekh turned away a little and then tried to reassure Malin, "I want to be here with you."

"And miss out on being with the crown prince?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Nothing will come of this, anyway, and I'm foolish for thinking it will."

Malin didn't pursue the subject beyond a few reproachful words of encouragement. They chatted on various subjects late into the night, and Elekh fell asleep just after Malin recounted to her the story of Dain and Dlysi. The fire was dying and Malin settled it. She felt_ good, _and it wasn't just the lumberberry tonic. She was plotting a way to make it up to Elekh for missing dinner with the royals... and that made her feel happy, the thought of bringing someone else happiness.

* * *

Author's Note: _Haha, what did you make of that? Also, a warning in advance. I may publish another fanfic I'm thinking of one of these days instead of the usual update, and I will take my usual break at the 28th episode or later, if I can get the storyline wrapped up before them. Cheerio!_


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: This chapter has undergone multiple revisions... urgh... but I am determine to plough through and get this storyline finished! Updates are not likely to be daily...

Chapter 27: Busy Day

Elekh was hurrying down the corridors, late to attend to her patients - Mister Oin, no matter how easygoing, would not be very pleased. Elekh had overslept, because somehow she and Malin had ended up snuggling warmly against each other for most of the night. Needless to say, both had a very pleasant rest.

Elekh was almost running in the corridors, scurrying across these unfamiliar "posh" quarters to the east-side where she lived and where the infirmary was located.

"Elekh!" she heard a voice call her from the corridor, "Nice to see you!"

She stopped and sighed, not _very _reluctantly. She turned and saw Fili, the prince, coming towards her.

"We're sorry to have missed you last night," Fili continued graciously

"I was..." Elekh said slowly, "With a patient. I'm sorry too, your grace. How do you do?"

"Very well. "

Both had nothing to say for a moment. Elekh looked down at the flour nervously (she really should have been going.)

Fili's hands nervously fingered the daggers at his side for no particular reason.

"I don't want to keep you," he said, "Good day."

"Good day," Elekh said softly, bowed, and then walked away at a much more dignified pace to meet the demands of the day.

Fili contemplatively watched her walk away, feeling like kicking himself. _For what purpose did I greet her if I have nothing of worth to say? And why should I think she would be wish to speak to me?_

Fili then turned his attention to Gimli, who was coming up the corridor from where Elekh came.

"Ready to go?" asked Gimli, "Where's Kili?"

"Yes," replied Fili, "C'mon... Kili's helping uncle in his office. We should get to the lake soon, to oversee the set-up.."

"Why do you need two swords for a underground picnic?" laughed Gimli, his loud voice echoing down the corridor, "To hunt for lunch amongst the bats?"

"Why do you need an axe?" Fili mumbled in reply,

"Its a _royal_ picnic!"

"You mean to protect our royalty from the visitors from Dale?"

"Ah, that's a possibility," Gimli paused, "But what I meant is that its a _royal _picnic... dull as a poker. "

"What do you propose to do with your axe?"

"Spar? Fight? I don't know. Dear uncle Balin... this is most assuredly _his _idea."

"I think it must be something they did in the old days."

Fili laughed. Gimli continued chattering, blissfully unaware that elves were arriving later today. Fili knew had to be on high alert, for while Thorin was yet clueless with regards to Kili's pursuit of the she-elf, Fili feared the two lovebirds might be lack in the better of part of valour.

"What do you think of Bard?"

"He has done us a great deal of kindness. Without his gracious hospitality, Kili may not have survived... and we cannot cease to thank our dragon-slayer."

"Aye, he is a great warriowman, a bowman of great skill. And not an elf!"

"Not an elf," agreed Fili.

"What do you think of the rest of them?"

"Bain is altogether a pleasant fellow, though very naive - raised by his own sister. Never had a sip of draught in his life!"

"Do not tell me you tried to corrupt the poor boy."

"He is young."

"He has a good head. No doubt you and I will have to forge our alliances with him in future days."

"As your uncle did with this King of Dale."

"On even better terms, hopefully. "

* * *

Kili picked up the pile of papers his uncle handed over to him reluctantly. More work!

"Now that Fili is to be king," Thorin was saying, "Balin and I agree you should take on more diplomatic responsibilities to be of service to him when the time comes. Read up on those records from Gloin I's reign; they should prove to be insightful."

"Yes uncle, but..."

Thorin didn't look up from the desk, but he said far too quietly,

"What is your objection?"

"You've still many years left to rule," Kili was saying brokenly, "Don't clear your office just yet, uncle."

Thorin looked up and stared at him, brows furrowing dangerously. He was clearing his office, tidying it up and preparing to leave the kingdom in the hands of his two boys. For some reason he thought it necessary.

Thorin cleared his throat,

"There is another matter I wish to instruct you upon," Thorin changed the subject, "I have a task for you today and I hope you do your duty."

"Yes, sir."

"Concerning the elves," Thorin began. He thought he saw Kili shrink in repulsion (actually fear).

"Your brother has the same feelings as I upon the subject," Thorin said, "You seem to have a better touch with them."

Kili gulped,

"If you say so, sir."

"You are more easy-going, friendly. When Thranduil and his party arrive today, I hope you will go out of your way to establish good relations with them."

Kili's eyes nearly dropped out of his head.

"Don't go anything foolish," Thorin quickly growled, "Balin would normally be with you, but he is quite handy with Bard and his menfolk. You might have to act without guidance... for goodness's sake, act as if our peace with Mirkwood lies on your shoulders, Kili. Better make sure you're up to the task."

Thorin looked pointedly at the stack of copied documents in Kili's hands.

Kili left the room. As he turned and left the room to join the picnic, a small grin he couldn't hold back broke out on his face, and it wasn't just at the volley of Khuzdul the king was muttering to himself. His smile then dropped and he made a wry face at the papers in his hand, looking in disinterest at them - how could he study diplomatic history if he had been just been ordered to consort with the elves... what did his uncle know about these matters, anyway? Kili was sure he knew a lot more about elves than Thorin... up close and personal.


	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note: I thought it would be interesting to think of what actor would I imagine when writing my OC, Malin. I think Olivia Coleman would be awesome, and the perfect age. She's got that grumpiness, primness and awkwardness to her as well, the perfect qualities to base my OC on. Just imagine that, except in dwarf costume and with a Scottish accent... eye candy! Now another question... who do you think of when you imagine Dis? Who would be your ideal Dis?

* * *

The king, flanked by Dwalin and Gloin, descended into the brightly lit understand cavern. It was a truly beautiful place, now that it was lit up. This spacious hollow had been carved over time by the underground waterfall. In the summer the falls were thundering and fierce, but in the winter it trickled pleasantly in one corner, a shallow lake covering half the cavern floor; the other half was dry, smooth stone. Tables, torches, even muscians had been set up, all for the entertainment of Dale guests who no doubt had never seen such sights.

Balin was truly a wonder, mused Thorin, _he _wouldn't have thought it. Thorin was having doubts, however, whether the historical tour of dwarven architecture and artifacts planned for the next day might amuse his guests as much.

A guard came hurrying to Dwalin with a note from the head of the guards of the outside watches, and Dwalin tore it opened and frowned. He crossed his arms and whispered into Thorin's ears, as they sat around the tables and ate. Balin came over, and anyone could notice something had disturbed the tranquility of the gathering. Thankfully, Bofur had the sense to create a distraction by getting the musicians to step up the beat with a lively dance, and then he persuaded the guests from Dale, all of them, to join him and a few others in dancing.

Dori was heading over to join the fun when Thorin motioned to his rather urgently, and Dori came over and joined the discussion.

"A nuisance!" snorted Dwalin.

"Half-wits! Tree shaggers!" growled Gloin, "No courtesy at all! Why..."

"Dwalin," chided Balin, interrupting Gloin,

"What's the matter?" Dori joined the circle of bobbing heads and brushing heads bent over in animated conversation,

"The elves arrive today!" Thorin seethed, "They decide to descend upon us without time for preparation, catch us off our guard."

"I'm sure it was an honest mistake," Balin tried to say soothingly,

"What's to be done?" Dori asked, "Are the quarters prepared to receive our guests?"

"That, " Thorin said, "Is where you come in."

"Take someone you trust. Someone you know will not cause any mischief or sabotage the guests' stay, someone not prone to acting on revenge," Balin said pointedly to "Gorn from housekeeping says things are almost done, but..."

"You want me to put the last finishing touches," finished Dori, "Why, I'd usually be glad to do these sort of it... serving guests is such a delight... but these are _elves._"

"Be sure to return their hospitality..." Dwalin rumbled, and Thorin looked like he agreed with him. With Gloin there could be no doubt.

"I don't trust myself, my king," said Dori, "I'm not sure what to think, really, not after the time..."

"We must do our duty," emphasized Balin, "Whether we like to or not. Perhaps Ori would like to help you."

"Ori's half out of his wits, " Dori sighed, "Waiting for his books and all. Jumps at every sound. Dropped and broke half my dishes yesterday alone..."

Malin had the unfortunate grace to arrive at precisely this moment, and Balin and Dwalin turned to see their sister.

"Malin!" Balin called,

"Good idea, " said Dori, jumping to conclusions, "Your sister would be excellent. She bears no _particular _grudge, and will be able to put to an end any pranks or nonsense. So firm, so fierce. Lovely, pleasant lady she is..."

Dwalin gave Dori an odd look,

"That's a fine idea," Balin said, "Malin, come over here a moment."

"My brother, my brother, my king, my cousin, " Malin bowed, addressing each of the four,

"You assistance is needed," Balin said,

Malin was looking nervously at the ground, still a little injured over yesterday's drama.

"Greatly needed," added the King, by way of a kind of apology, "Will you go with Dori and make sure things are all in place for the arrival to the elves?"

"Tomorrow?" gulped Malin,

"Today," Dwalin said,

"Unexpectedly early," underlined Gloin, "Inconsideration is an elvish trait, however they try to attribute it to us."

"But we will handle it, won't we, Malin?" Balin said encouragingly, "Dori needs you help."

"Yes, my lord, " said Malin,

"Erm..." Balin added, "And make sure everything is well... nothing is untoward, unexpected, improper, or can potentially disrupt our peace alliance..."

Malin caught the meaning at once, and straightening up, she said,

"Yes sir."

"As soon as things are prepared, you are excused to your quarters, as of course are all the dwarowdams, including maids, " added the King,

Malin knew what the king meant. It was well-understood that dwarves that dwarf-women were often insulted and looked upon with disgust by other races, especially elves. Malin had heard rumours that the elf-prince had insulted a likeness of Ghiza. Dwarves, being fiercely protective of their women, would prefer to keep them from the company of those who were naturally repulsed by their appearance.

Balin glanced at the king - hadn't Malin been already prepared to help entertain the guests?

"Thank you, my lord," Malin said, "But if I may be of any service..."

"There will be few dwarves, let alone dwarrowdams, present tonight if the delegation from Mirkwood are to come," Balin said, "Perhaps, my lord, it would be best,"

"Will you?" asked the king, turning to Malin, "If you wish to be excused..."

" I will be present tonight," said Malin to Balin and the king, "It is the least I can do."

Malin bowed again, drew herself up with pride at the thought of elves, and taking Dori's arm, they both left the picnic.

_What have I to be afraid of anyway, _shrugged Malin, _For my pride? Reputation? _

It Balin thought it best, it would be wise to do what he suggested.

Within hours the preparations were done - Malin merely had to be an overseer of sorts, anyway, just making sure sheets, soaps, chairs and things of that sort were provided for and no hidden stink bombs, thistles or childish pranks were present. When she finally returned to her quarters, it seemed as if the corridors of Erebor were suddenly emptied of dwarrowdams. To attend the banquet would be alright, but to mingle with elves who might lurk in the hallways was not to be desired. Even so, Malin knew she would be one of the few dwarrowdams to actually show up at the banquet.

As Malin dressed she heard faintly, from quite a distance, horns announce the arrivals at the front gate.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29: Dangerous Liaison  
**

_Three months earlier..._

Kili stepped waited patiently by the front of the tavern, disguised as a dwarrowdam and wearing a green dress and hood. He smoked his pipe, as was his signal, and shrank from the lewd looks and whistles the townsmen gave him as they sauntered by. Kili kept his hands under his cloak, clutching his daggers, when a tall townsman seized him from behind.

Suddenly a rough, tall woman bustled by in a wheezy voice and shooed the molester away.

"Come along with me," said the woman, "You'll be safe with me, lass..."

Kili opened his mouth to protest but then he caught sight of the "woman's" face. It was Tauriel, dressed as a common woman of laketown.

"You had me fooled!" Kili gasped,

"Shh!" Tauriel grabbed him by his shoulders and they marched out of town and into the woods.

"You didn't come alone," Tauriel said accusingly as last when they were alone,

"I had to sneak out. I could only go out as a dwarrowdam and no dwarrowdam leaves without a male!"

"Hmph, you dwarves are one kind of misogynist."

"Not really, that's how things work for us. Its difficult enough being a dwarf, being a female is even harder. We don't complain..."

"Shh..." Tauriel motioned, "You'll miss the music."

"Let me undress first," Kili said, stripping of his dress and hood, and folding them carefully - he would have to thank Ale later for the loan, though she did not know what for. It would have been nearly impossible to snitch them from his mother.

"And I," laughed Tauriel, her voice ringing like bells,

"What fun it is to be together, life is so serious and dull in the mountain, it feels good to do and do something reckless."

"We are merrymaking folk, we woodland elves,"

"As are dwarves," reminded Kili, "We we are not burdened by the weight of the cares of stone."

"Let me take a look at your leg," Tauriel said, bending down.

"You worry too much."

"Let me see."

Tauriel bent done and shone her torch over it.

"On the mend, Kili, but you must be careful. If you are in need of help, send for me and I will come."

"Do I need athelas?"

"Oh, lots of it, my dear," whispered Tauriel in his ear, "Lots of athelas,"

"I think my leg's hurting, " began Kili, "Feels like I'm going to break out in a fever any moment now."

"Then let's not waste any moment."

Tauriel knew the wound was long healed, and only scars remained. But it had become like a ritual to them, to come out into the woods, listen to the music of the forest, watch the stars, and heal Kili's old wounds with athelas as if kingsfoil could drain out any lingering distance between them.

Kili leaned back against the tree and smiled. He would never forget this moment, and utterly savoured Tauriel's every touch, every syllable of her chant, the glow of her eyes and frame when she whispered the elvish words. His spirit soared. And then it was over.

"And now you must do something for me, master dwarf," Tauriel said, "Braid my hair."

"If you will braid mine... you _do _what this means for dwarves, does it not?"

"If we can have nothing else we will have this," insisted Tauriel, "That we are each others at least for a few short hours, betrothed as we otherwise could not be."

"Yes," said Kili eagerly as she sat on the rock and he combed his fingers through her long, flawless red hair, longing to bury his face in it, "At least we have this."

"What good can come of it, Kili?" Tauriel sighed,

"Oh, I don't know. What was the penalty for "unlawful relations" with elves again? Death by the king's sword?"

"Your uncle would not do that."

"I'm afraid it will, but it will not be he who killed me first. I would have killed him, broken his heart. I fear he has not long for this earth."

"He is young yet..."

"But old in mind... I cannot, Tauriel. I cannot."

"Kili," said Tauriel, "Life passes slowly for elves. What is the difference between one day and another? I have all eternity to be an elf, but only a few short years to spend with you."

"You will not regret it?"

"Never."

Kili reached down and took her hand, kissing it,

"I am sorry,"

"We will not be sorry tonight. We have months to be sorry, apart. Now tell me a story while I braid your hair..."

"First you have to get these ridiculous female beads out of mine first," snorted Kili, "And while you do, I will tell you of the squirrels Thorin cooked us for dinner when we were lads. But after that, you must tell me of Beren and Luthien."

"But time will not stand still for us, _mellon nin,_" Tauriel reminded,

Kili's smile faded. At best he and Tauriel could only be friends, but inwardly their souls craved for each others' company, and, deprived, languished.

The night passed to soon, and finally after one last story, Tauriel kissed Kili and on the cheek and was gone.


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: Dear readers, I thought I'd be fun to come up with an elf OC. And then I didn't use him much in this chapter, go figure. I waited almost a week for inspiration on this chapter, so I hope justice is done now. It's twice as long as usual!

**Chapter 30: Welcome, Friends**

Kili, Fili and Gimli were waiting by the front gates. The elven delegation had been spotted, but Thranduil's white moose-steed was not seen amongst them.

Thorin, flanked by Dwalin and Gloin, were at the other side of the entrance, were a whispered consultation was going on. Dori soon came and reported his work done. No one was excited, save Kili, who was doing quite a good job at disguising excitement as timidity.

They waited for a good long time, and Gimli was getting restless as he usually did. Kili was not in much of a mood for chatter, so Fili and Gimli were discussing the anniversary banquet.

Then the elves drew near. For five minutes the tense reception party waited, thenfinally the elves on horses swept up the drive.

Legolas Thranduillion was ahead, with a white horse. Tauriel, captain of the Mirkwood guard was on a red steed. Behind them, a grumpy elf official, Tellon, with brown hair, rode a brown horse, a diplomat of Thranduil. Next to Tellon was Lindir of Rivendell. These four were riding dressed well, but another eight guards came too, dressed in full ceremonial armour.

Thorin received the guests, Dwalin and Gloin behind him.

"Thorin, King under the Mountain, at your service."

"Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood, at yours. May I introduce my company - Lindir of Rivendell, a guest of my father's and emissary of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, Tellon, a diplomatic official of Mirkwood, and Tauriel, captain of the Mirkwood guard. We are most grateful for your hospitality. My father sends his regrets, he is entertaining an unexpected visitor, Lord Elrond, and cannot come today."

"You must word to them to come on the feast day," Thorin said, "Lord Elrond and King Thranduil are most welcome here."

"I will, thank you."

"You are most welcome. May I introduce my heir, Fili the Crown Prince, Kili his brother - they are my sister-sons. This is my kin, Gloin, son of Groin. And this is his son Gimli, another young heir of Durin. Dwalin, chief of Erebor's defense, my kin of Durin. And Dori, also of Durin's Folk. Our Lord Balin is not present at this moment... The halls welcome the elves of Mirkwood and Rivendell, may the peace between us flourish as we celebrate our united victory. The dwarves of Erebor are in your debt..."

The elves were received, and they rode straight in and let their horses be stabled before visiting the throne room and being officially received, again. Balin was there, as was Malin, who stood with the sparse crowd of nobles and Company members, staring at the tall elves (were they really only over six feet?) From Malin's vantage point, it seemed as it the towered to the ceiling. And how light and graceful they were - it was an odd sight for a dwarf. And they were clad in the colours of the autumn forest, which was odder still.

Bard, King of Dale, and his delegation was there as well, and formal greetings went around, and then the ceremonies were over, or so Dwalin thought. He was then surprised to find that their usually raucous dining hall had been transformed into a formal affair with gold settings and table arrangements, very dwarven still. Even the musicians had combed their beards, put on gold tunics, and were playing softly and _peacefully_. Dwalin had not even known they were capable of playing such music. Tonight would certainly be different... Dwalin looked over at Fili and Kili, seated apart from each other. They had just exchanged winks.

_Humph. _Dwalin thought, _They're up to some mischief._

Dwalin glanced at the casks of strong drink lined up around the side of the room, ready to entertain the guests. He them saw Fili pouring a second glass of wine for Bard, even before the meal had started.

"Amazing stuff," Bard was noting, "Keeps our blood warm in the cold winter, aye?"

Bard's unusually cheerful laugh rang, echoed by some other cheerful dwarf nobles.

_Oh, nothing unusual, _Dwalin concluded, _Just straightforward dwarven hospitality. _

* * *

Dwalin was reeling, but he got ahold of himself to deliver his sister safely back to his room. Aye, he could take quite a bit of ale before feeling its power. Malin had done very well tonight, entertaining both elves and humans. She was not holding on to his arms, her eyes a little brighter than usual, but was quiet. She had convinced Legolas to drink, and had even played a part in Kili and Fili's conspiracy to get Sigrid drunk, with Bard far too gone to notice. Sigrid was like a token dwarf tonight, she drank quite a surprising amount and hadn't even felt tipsy. And she and Tilda had looked very dwarven in their new outfits, Malin was considering her job successful, even though she was quite red in the face after a series of drinks.

"Goodnight, Malin," Dwalin said. He couldn't wait to get back to his room and fall and asleep.

Malin yawned, "Goodnight milord," she said, and gave and exaggerated formal bow.

Dwalin smiled, "Get some rest, tomorrow will be a long day."

Malin shut the door and smiled, collapsing into bed. A smug self-satisfied smile crossed her face- had she just flirted with an elf, and more so, the elvenking's son?

She couldn't resist. Legolas Thranduillion had been stiff as wood the entire dinner, obviously very uncomfortable at the dwarven setting of the meal. He had barely eaten, and was so very grumpy and displeased about everything. He barely spoke, and was especially horrified when he discovered (from Tauriel) that Malin was _female. _His eyes had widened with shock.

Well, Malin wasn't going to let him alone after that. She had tugged conspicuously at her beard and grinned at him, urging the Prince over and over again to try the wine until he did, and finding it was good, Legolas didn't stop. Malin toasted him across the table where they sat, and winked playfully at him. He smiled reluctantly back - good, she was getting through. If Balin wanted her to entertain the guests, she was certainly going to do so.

Legolas had pecked at the food, barely touching it. He had very limited tastes - elves do not heavily season their food and he couldn't bear the overpowering spices coming from the meats, preferring the subtle flavours of greens. A good meal for Legolas consisted of elven bread, green leaves, perhaps with grapes or tomatoes. Luckily, the dwarves did serve greens - as decorations. He managed to swipe a few lettuce leaves from underneath several dishes, and lady Malin had even insisted he try a roast tomato - it was _very _good.

"It's a Shire tomato," Malin said proudly, "Does this please you?"

"Yes," said Legolas slowly, "It is actually quite good."

"You subsist mostly on green leaves, Prince Legolas?"

"Yes," said Legolas,

"Is that why they call your Legolas Greenleaf? If you pardon me asking?"

Legolas started in surprise and stammered that he didn't think so. Is that what people thought of him, he thought. Then he looked up and saw the dwarf lady grinning at him. How could he let himself be teased, he, a Mirkwood elf, above all elves known for their merrymaking and wit? Tauriel was looking sideways at him, now, grinning. How infuriating.

He looked over and seethed to see Lindir laughing and drinking with Thorin, obviously having a good time and taking pleasure in the fact that he was making quite a mess over diner, Lindir, who normally had to be so quiet and calm, neat and useful. Tonight was his night off, and he was determined to take the most of it and perhaps even paint Erebor red. Then again, Lord Elrond had been very good to the dwarf company on their quest. Lindir had become acquainted with this folk under much more pleasant circumstances.

* * *

After dinner, Tauriel, Lindir, Kili, and Gimli ended playing a dwarf game in the corner, with carved semiprecious stones and a complex game board. It looked like a fun game, judging from the amount of laughter and alcohol thrown into the mix, but Legolas was not interested in having fun. Legolas talked a little with Bard, but when Bard went to join the rest of the party, Legolas was left sitting a little away from everyone else. No one approached him to speak with him, and he started to feel bored.

Then that dwarf lady appeared again, two glasses of Mirkwood white wine in her hand.

"Perhaps our elven guest favours white wine, " she said,

"Actually, I do, yes, " Legolas thanked her, remembering his manners,

Then she sat down beside him! And tried to engage him in small talk.

"So you are the prince?"

"Yes."

"I suppose being an elven prince is more of a diplomatic role?"

"Mirkwood is not so much run as it is protected, so my role mostly involves security and diplomacy, yes..."

"Do you expect to be king?"

"My father does not wish to join his kin the Undying Lands, he will remain in his position."

"Ah."

"And your role?"

"I assist my brother, Lord Balin, overseeing trade and sometimes diplomacy."

"Yes, I hear dwarf women are subject to their male guardians."

"It is so with our people, yes. Mainly women our women are few."

"Elven women... they are very powerful. Tauriel is our captain of the guard."

"Dwarves are likely to be misogynists, yes. But I am very lucky."

"Still, you are here, and you speak to me, because your brother has likely ordered you to, is it not so?"

"Perhaps, but perhaps it is also because I think your company is enjoyable."

"I highly doubt that. Your kin do not believe so, and they have cause."

"Your armies fought alongside us in our battle, helped us overcome our enemies. We owe you much gratitude."

"Don't trouble yourself."

Malin paused, and then smiled.

"What is it that amuses you?"

"You are not very different from a dwarf, I think."

"How can _that _be so?"

"We are suspicious of what we do not know, and we have a propensity to be very grumpy and carry grudges."

Legolas laughed, his eyes not leaving the corner where Tauriel was laughing and playing. Malin's gaze followed his.

"You care for her, do you not?"

"Is it always so obvious?" Legolas growled, then said with resignation, "My father and I do not agree upon that subject."

"You are bethrothed, married?"

"I am likely never to be," said Legolas slowly, "I think I have inherited my father's coldness - love does not usually burn in the heart of elves. We are like ice, dwarves like fire, I suppose... what of you, my lady?"

"I... am like most dwarves, married to my work," Malin smiled,

Legolas tilted his head, as though he did not to believe her,

"You must be very... attractive... in the dwarf sense."

"You cannot pay a compliment well!" Malin exclaimed with humour,

"It is not my custom."

"Come, come. I do not mind your opinions. No doubt you have never seen the sight of a dwarrowdam - small, broad, bearded. Does it not shock your elven senses?"

"...and have you seen an elf before?"

"No. You fit the descriptions of course, but I thought an elf would be more... mysterious... full of riddles and overworldly auras."

"I am not in the mood."

"You speak bluntly, for an elf."

Legolas shrugged, "Whatever you say."

Malin got another drink, and then another and another. Legolas was relaxing a little, despite himself. She stayed by his side the entire meal, trying to joke, make small talk, anything. If she was going to do as Balin commanded, she was going to enjoy herself doing so. Sigrid looked like she was having fun - Fili was feeding her drinks, and amusing Tilda with sweets and stories, doing his princely duty. Thorin and Balin were talking with Bard. Gloin was simply waiting for the night to be over, mostly likely so that he could go spend his time with Ghiza, who was now alone in her quarters. _She _did not wish to be there tonight.

* * *

At the end of the party, everyone was retiring. Malin saw Dwalin tilt his head towards her, as if to say it was about time to go.

"I should go, my brother beckons me," said Malin, "Goodnight, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood."

Legolas got up. He had been largely silent and boring the entire night, but he was determined to at least be civil. He helped Malin to her feet and then bent _very _far down to kiss her hand.

"Good night, Lady Malin. You have been an excellent diplomat."

Dwalin's face crinkled in amusement. Thankfully, the crowd was milling about and no one else noticed the gesture.

Malin smiled at Legolas, curtseyed, and took her leave.

Soon after she was gone, Legolas made his way over to Tauriel and muttered to her in elvish that it was about time she get to bed

"Yes, grandfather," Tauriel replied in elvish, winking at Lindir, whose eyes darted back and forth between the two without an expression on his face.

"I should go at once."

Lindir grasped Gimli's hand and then Kili,

"Thank you, this was a pleasant night. If this is dwarven hospitality I am certainly looking forward to tomorrow."

"Before you leave, do sing us a elven song," begged Kili,

"Well," begin Lindir, "I am no singer..."

"Oh please, something fun would do. Nothing fancy,"

"You must," Fili joined in, having walked over and observed the last of the game.

"I know few jovial songs, but I do know a good one from the Mirkwood kingdom," began Lindir,

Legolas groaned, wanting to hide his face as Lindir broke into a slightly off-key rendition of "Tra-la-la-la-lally." Oh, Thranduil's tunes were _so _embarassing. _At least father didn't make me ride his moose.__  
_


	31. Chapter 31

Dear readers, A sort of recap chapter, today. A nice, long one too. :). Phew! Thanks for the comments and support, I hope the story isn't too boring.

**Chapter 31: The Mines of Moria Exhibit**

Erebor ceased to sleep. Usually the mountain reverberated with snores, but for two nights, it seemed as if the no one was sleeping. Preparations continued late into the night, and those not involved generally also thought it their duty to forgo sleep and proceed as if it was day, and poke their noses into whatever was going on.

* * *

Thorin was taking the next day off to sleep, because he was having trouble keeping himself together. Let Balin do the entertaining for a day, and see to it he got nice holiday when all this fuss was over. Thorin's throbbing headaches were getting the better of him, and he was constantly snapping at people, irritated and irrational.

_They're much better off with cheerful Balin than this grumpy_ king, groaned Thorin. No one knew what it was like, truly. Sometimes at night all he saw in his dreams were the terrified eyes of the poor little hobbit as his fists had clenched around his neck. Sometimes he saw the head of his grandfather rolling across the fields of Azanulbizar. Sometimes he saw... well, he had seen a lot of things in his life. And now, reclaiming Erebor was supposed to be the happy ending. _But there will never be a happy ending, grunted Thorin, All is not well. _There were so many things in his life for which he could not make amends, and now he feared the hobbit would be one of those things. Thorin had not even said goodbye to Bilbo went Bilbo had went home after the battle. He hadn't seen him since he banished him from Erebor, actually. And it was Balin who made sure Bilbo had taken some gold with him...

Thorin groaned, tossing and turning. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Of course Kili did not sleep. How could he, when his dearly beloved she-elf was within his mountain? What was gold, what was treasure, when he could not have and hold the one being on Arda that he desired the most? He thought it would appease him, that she should be under the same mountain, but it was a continual agony that though she was no near, she could not be further away nor more unattainable. That hurt.

Fili sensed this changed of mood of Kili's. He knew, he suspected, but he dared not put into words, or even thoughts, the current he felt between his brother and the elf. Good Fili kept trying to keep everyone's spirits up, to be a good host, and to be a good, as at least passable, image of Thorin. Both of which were completely opposite things that threatened to tear Fili apart - how could he be his uncle's protege _and _be a pleasant person and the same time. These days, Fili felt keenly that those two things had never opposed each other with such adversity. Fili felt his nerves on edge, as if a feather's weight would throw his carefully marked behaviour off course.

Dis was in her rooms, amusing herself. She met with Sigrid, they had nice long talks, not just deep and serious ones but amusing ones as well; Dis liked people who amused her. And Sigrid had found a friend in the old dwarf Princess - they seemed to agree on so many things, and humor each other most well. Sigrid may be young, but she was an old soul in many ways. But Dis was now busy preparing for the Grand Banquet now, or as least preparing what she would wear, and overseeing preparations from deep inside the fortress that was the royal quarters. _Her _brother might be king under the mountain, but the royal quarters were _her _territory. Dis was a powerful domestic force; her (plentiful) words were respected like law.

She even had a say in the upcoming ceremony, at least a little.

"Of course Ori will present the historical account himself," Dis exclaimed, overhearing Balin, Gloin and Thorin's discussion.

Balin smiled and nodded, his point put across very nicely. It was good to have Her Ladyship's support, at least in this instance.

Ori's book was done, by the way. It remained in Dori's vault under lock and key, partly to prevent it from getting lost and partly to stop Ori from wearing it through constant rereading. Ori was unable to sleep; in his dreams, he recited revisions he ought to have made. Dori fretted, nagged, scolded; but all to no avail. Ori would not relax. He would only keep thinking of his precious book.

"If you do not eat your supper," Dori hollered, "I don't care whether you're an author, historian or what not. You'll spend the rest of your life in the forges, working. I'll make a blacksmith out of you if you don't behave yourself."

Of course Dori didn't really mean it; its just that he was trying to make sure Ori didn't go into fits or anxiety attacks. In truth, Dori was _very, very _proud of Ori. The same he could not say for Nori.

Ah, Nori. He had a wife, a son, and no doubt would not have another one along the way. It was not that they needed money; any member of the company could forgo work for the rest of their lives and live off the divided treasure, which was plentiful enough. But without work, dwarves fade. They need work, they need to keep going.

Dori ran a tight ship when it came to his and Ori's finances, the biggest expense really being Ori's work expenses and the constant improvements Dori was making to their quarters. No doubt it was more lavish and comfortable than the king's own suite by now, what with plush cushions, tapestries, silver settings and so forth - all highly discounted (hackled) bargains purchases way below market price, no doubt.

But Nori was not investing well. He was not putting his heart into the business Dori had him invest him; he was doing everything in his power to annoy Dori, or so Dori believed. That was the reality Dori forced himself to believe, not the far worse alternative that Nori was likely to gamble, squander, or lose his entire hard-earned fortune within a couple of years.

"You can't just think of yourself," Dori always lectured, "You have to think of generations to come, your son and his sons. Life is never stable for us dwarves, we have to make most of our gold last, if not all of it, to pass on as inheritance."

But of course the three brothers were happy - settled at last, and a family with a little babe to dote upon.

But if Nori didn't listen to Dori, he at least heeded the advice of most elderly dwarrowdams, intimidating and interfering as they were.

Nori was hurrying down the corridor to oversee a new arrival of a shipment of goods. Early winter was a odd (and expensive) time for importing goods, but Nori had left it off until too late. Some important food supplies for the banquet were arriving today - it was a blessing that Balin had entrusted him with official business, so Dori had made it very clear Nori couldn't afford to let his customers down.

"Lady Malin!" he exclaimed as he saw her in the corridors,

Malin had given up on telling people not to call her "lady". Balin had said that it was an important title and position and that she _had _to let others address her in that respect.

"Nori," she said warmly, "Busy on business?"

"Aye,"

"See you tomorrow then - I can't wait to see Ori's book!"

"Yes, so am I."

"Give my love to Lallek and the baby."

"I will, good day."

"Good day."

Malin continued on, heading to join Balin's tour of some rooms in which dwarven artifacts and remnants were being displayed. It was Balin's pet project- he of all dwarves remembered so much of Erebor before the fall, and dearly loved dwarven history as well. Where he found the time to involve himself in historical research Malin did not know.

A crowd of dwarves, elves and men were waiting around outside the designated hall, milling before its looming doors.

"May I have your attention please," Balin cleared his throat. A circle gathered around him, dwarves pushing to the front (as they needed to be in front to get to see anything). Balin winked pleasantly at his sister and began his tour.

_My name is Balin, son of Fundin, advisor to King Thorin. My father's father Farin was the son Borin, who the brother of King Thorin's grandfather Thrain. Does that make any sense? _

The dwarves in the crowd were mostly nodding.

_To put it in other words, King Thorin and I share a Great, Great-Grandfather, Nain the first. But I'll get to that later. Firstly, what I would like to say that today I will be sharing with you some of the greatest moments in the history of Durin's line._

"Hear, hear!" cheered some dwarves,

_We dwarves are a secretive race and we guard our language, our names, even our history jealously. But what I will show to you today are no secrets. No mysteries. But no doubt it will be new to many of you, and I hope you will find it interesting._

Malin glanced over at the elves, who looked bored already. Bard's face was expressionless and Sigrid and Tilda's attention were drawn to some ravens flying around the massive cavern.

_Well, let us begin with a story. _

Balin pointed to the seven statues carved above the hall's doors, with runes carved into its foundation.

_That above was built in the reign of Thror, King under the the Mountain, grandfather of Thorin. It depicts the creation of the dwarves._ _We dwarves were formed by Mahal, our creator, or Aule the great smith. He made us one of His own and is our Father. But our creation displeased the Great Illuvatar, but He did not kill us. Instead, he gave dwarves free will. Mahal made the seven fathers of the seven clans of the dwarves, and put them each to sleep in their own mountains. __The first that awoke of the dwarves was the greatest, the King of the Longbeards, Durin the Deathless. He built the great dwarf kingdom of Moria.  
_

Balin motioned, and two guards (for that was all it took, because of the great strength of dwarves), pushed the great doors of the hall open, and Balin led the crowd into the dark room. Guards swept past the crowd and illuminated the room. It was a very long room with an enormously high ceiling, and now, brightly lit.

Balin directed the group's attention to the great tapestry hanging from the ceiling above them, depicting the seven fathers as created by Mahal. Another was beside it, and it bore the emblem of Durin the Deathless and depicted the dwarf kingdom of Moria.

_This tapestry is an amazing artifact from the ancient dwarf Kingdom of Moria. You are now entering the Mines of Moria exhibition.  
_

Malin was enthralled; not by the stories, which she had heard countless times and in much more detail than this. But now the whole exhibit was lighted up and she could behold the marvelous displays.

First were ancient dwarvish scrolls, whatever few scraps of paper that were salvaged from Moria and preserved in Erebor And then, worn out and rusty iron tools from the great Mithril mines. Giant hammers rebuilt as they would have been in the forges of Moria. An illustration of what Thrain I's harp would have looked like. A detailed illuminated scroll depicting the great gate of Moria. A large stone table over which had been built a miniature of one of the great halls of Moria. Tattered leather shoes from the reign of Groin I, amongst the smattering of artifacts. Malin looked them all over and turned her attention to Balin once again.

_I am about to show you something marvelous that you may never have seen before, _announced Balin in a somber voice, _The wealth of Moria was in mithril, the finest and most expensive metal in all of Arda, a gift from Illuvatar himself. It is light, and strong, and a single piece of it has more value than all the gold of the mountain. _

He dug into his coat pocket and produced a single mithril ring. It sparkled, reflecting the light of the blue dwarven torch-flames. Malin gasped at its beauty and its simplicity.

_It is one of the rarest treasures, passed down into my family with a history of its own, _Balin told the awed crowd, _It was first forged in the reign of Thror back in Khazad-dum, that is, Moria. It belonged to Yana the Warhammer, a great dwarf warrior of legend. She, yes,_ _she was a female, she led the host of Moria on their last stand against the orcs, and died from battle injuries afterward. The tale is renown amongst all Longbeards, for her strength, bravery and courage in the face of defeat. My mother's name was Yana, for the ring was passed from Yana to her daughter and to her daughter's daughter, my mother. _

Malin gasped. Her mother's ring? Only great dwarves wore rings, and this was a _mithril _ring. And it belonged to her mother. How come she had _never _heard of this?

Malin longed to go near, touch the ring. But she gulped and stepped away a little. It felt so wrong for the ring of her mother, the mother she had never knew, to be paraded before elves and men and dwarves who knew not why it was so precious.

_I would have thought nothing of my mother's would have remained, _sighed Malin, _It appears there is one last thing. _

* * *

Tilda was thoroughly enjoying the exhibit. She couldn't get over the marvel of these dwarves, how utterly brilliant they were, how fascinating their lives were. She poured over the exhibit and hung to Balin's every word, listening with bright eyes.

As for Sigrid, well, it wasn't too bad. Kinda stuffy, a little dull, and also sad, but not unbearable. Not like those council meetings of Dale she sometimes sat in on with Bain.

Now Balin led the group around Erebor, pointing things out about architecture. The elves were expressionless and usual, but Bard became more and more grim at the day passed. No one could read what was going on, however.

No one notice the Lady Malin slip away as the group left the halls except Balin, who looked around for her.

_Probably off to see to something, _he thought. _She's seen most of this before._


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32: Misty Dawn  
**

The crowd had mostly gone to watch the sun rise on the dawn of the victory of the Battle of Five Armies from the main battlement, a great balcony overlooking the front of Erebor. The king, his soldiers, the elves and men of Dale all were on the Great Overlook, as it was called, as one. There was one, however, higher up in the mountain and that was where Dwalin and Balin decided to take their sister.

The spiral staircase was solid, but old, and Malin fought with her bunching skirts to follow Dwalin up, Balin following behind.

"Shouldn't we be going to the Great Overlook?" Malin panted as she realized they must have gone pass the height of the Great Overlook.

"We're going to watch the first proceedings from the other overlook," Dwalin said, "Better view, actually."

As he said that, Dwalin reached the top of the stairs, and brandishing a key, opened the stone doors that led to the opening. Malin felt the chill wind bluster around her, and the grey, cold dawn start to enter the warm mountain. Luckily, Dwalin had a torch, and he used it to light the torch by the door as well as some attached to the walls. Soon about five torches were blazing, emitting a lovely warmth,

Malin straightened out her crushed skirts. Her dress, one Balin had commissioned for her, very long and warm, but also very ample. Underneath, she must have been wearing almost six layers of starched petticoats. The dress was very youthful, reminiscent of spring as it was peach in colour, rather than the usual red or marroon, and underlaid with a white design, very cheerful indeed. In her hair, Malin wore red and golden-brown adornments, rubies in gold settees were the theme of the luxurious jewelry on her arms, neck and hair, for red and golden-brown were the colours of the house of Fundin, whereas the royal family wore blue and mithril-silver.

"Does king require us to be here today?" inquired Malin, looking around the clean but empty balcony.

"No, its just the three of us up here," said Dwalin,

"We have been given a kind of holiday today," Balin said, "To enjoy ourselves together... so I thought I'd be nice to watch the ceremony from up here. The view is spectacular, is it not?"

Indeed it was, even before the dawn broke and the marches began. Indeed, in the wee hours of the previous night the troops from Dale and Mirkwood had arrived to show their colours in a sort of triumphant display reminiscent of the great Battle one year previously, only for the armies of Dain of the Iron Hills, it had been too far to come, especially since it was winter.

Silence came over the three as they looked over the stone wall and down at the proceedings below. Dawn was going to break soon.

"It is breathtaking," Malin breathed,

"I thought you'd like it," smiled Balin, looking affectionately at her.

But worry creased over Malin's face.

"Will your absence displease the king?"

"Pshaw, its only for the outdoor marches. We'll join in and mingle later," Balin waved his hand, "We need some time together, just the three of us."

"Aye," said Dwalin, breaking his silence as he folded his arms and rested them on the balcony, leaning forward.

"Thank you," Malin said softly.

"It's nothing, sister," Balin took her hand and squeezed it, looking at her and she turned to look back at him, "We've spent all our lives following Thorin, for more than a hundred years... the least we could do is spend one morning together watching the sun rise."

Malin eyes glazed over and she quickly wiped them and regained her composure.

"We should not look to the past," she said, "Only to the dawn of our future together."

"And there it is," Dwalin said with awe as the dawn broke forth and rays of sun beamed on the mountain, "The morning sun."

"I remember this day last year as clearly as if it were yesterday..." Balin began,

Malin watched the sun rise, and Balin began to tell her some of what had occurred, but he stopped. A large raven was approaching them and Balin walked away to one corner of the outlook, reaching out his hand. The raven landed and Balin's hand.

"Wise-Warrior," the bird said,

"Indeed, I am at your service, Griki, raven of Erebor," replied Balin, smiling. He approached Malin and Dwalin with the bird on his arm,

"Stone-Head," the bird greeted Dwalin, but did not move from his perch on Balin's hand. The bird looked quizzically at Malin.

"This is our sister,"

"Sister of Wise-Warrior," squawked Griki,

"Aye," said Malin, "At your service. I have spoken the rare raven of the Iron Hills before, but not to those of Erebor. They named me Heavy-Eye."

"Sister of Wise-Warrior, name I give you," began Griki majestically, pausing for a moment to take in Malin with his broad, sharp black eyes, "Iron Mother."

Malin returned the bird's stare evenly. She bowed, then said, "Thank you."

Balin was smiling cheerfully,

"She's a beauty, as you can see,"

Griki sqauwked, and bowed,

"We serve Raven King,"

"Thorin?" whispered Malin to Dwalin, who nodded,

"You brought Raven King victory," said Balin, "We bow with thanks."

"Thanks to dwarves," said Griki as he bowed his head and then launched himself to fly away.

They quietly watched the raven disappear into the mass of ravens who had turned out. They listened to the horns blow and watched the elven and dwarven soldiers march from opposite directions towards the entrance of the mountains, meeting with the army from Dale in the center. Then a horn sounded, and silence fell. No one stirred or spoke. For five minutes the assembled throng silently remembered the dead of the Battle. Then a horn sounded again and the ravens of the mountain swooped down, flying from their hidden nests on the mountainside.

The celebration had begun.

"Its a good time to go down, I believe," remarked Balin, "I hear the ale will be specially good..."

"Aye," said Malin and Dwalin together as they turned from the balustrades. They looked ready for some fun.


End file.
